Saying Goodbye
by Edwardd
Summary: She was sent from England to become the wife of Lord Cutler Beckett. She found herself looking at another. Saying goodbye is never an easy thing.
1. Chapter 1

**Saying Goodye**

**Chapter One**

_Every man has a price which he will willingly accept, _

_even for that which he hopes never to sell._

* * *

She watched as the port came into view. Large enough, she never needed much. What she wanted most at this point was to get off of the damned boat she'd been on for who knows how long. But maybe she didn't want to get off because getting of would mean arriving, arriving would mean saying goodbye.

_Saying goodbye is never an easy thing._

At the tender age of two, she had learned to walk independently. At the age of four she learned to jog independently. At the age of six she learned to sprint- _independently_. Independence. She learned and she understood. Now- now she must forget.

"We will be preparing to descend down to the boats soon, Lady Sharp," a sailor informed her.

She twisted around, her light brown hair swaying in the wind. She gave a polite smile and a faint nod. "Very well."

At the age of ten she had learned how to properly eat. At the young age of eleven she had learned how to walk in the tallest of heeled shoes. At the age of thirteen she had learned to waltz. At the age of fifteen she had learned how to act- more importantly- how to not act around certain people. And at the age of seventeen, she had not yet learned how to be a wife. That would soon come.

_Sooner than I would have liked._

As her tiny boat made it's way to shore, she thought of the ship as paradise. Her stomach churned and she could swear her face was turning green. She felt every wave. The sailor that was rowing her to shore even gave her a funny look. But she politely smiled and turned away.

Her father was already in Port Royale. How long had he been there? She never really missed him. But then she received a letter; a letter that told her she was expected to arrive in Port Royale for a wedding. She had been excited. Maybe her brother finally found someone. Then she realized it was an invitation to her own wedding.

"Lady Sharp," a fine looking man in uniform said as he reached out his hand. She smiled faintly and put her gloved hand into his own. "My apologies, but we must make haste. You've arrived later than expected."

"It's quite alright," she smiled. "I'd rather be moving in a hurried manner than be sitting around."

He flashed a nice smile, although it did seem a little fake. He helped her off the tiny boat and escorted her to her carriage. He was a handsome man indeed. She decided she wouldn't mind if he happened to be her husband-to-be.

They reached the carriage and the man opened the door for her. He helped her inside. She turned back to him and smiled. He looked back confused.

_Was she expecting something?_

"Thank you for everything…"

"Commodore James Norrington. You can just call me James if you'd like. I feel that we'll be seeing more of each other," he said, as he closed the carriage door.

_That must be him!_

Why else would he allow her to call him by his first name? She beamed. Sure she would like to find love and choose her own husband, but she was in an arranged marriage. Beggars can't be choosers, as her father would always say.

"Now, Lady Sharp, allow me to take you to your betrothed."

"What?'

* * *

He swirled the liquid in the glass ad he looked out to sea. There was so much happening, so much going on. And of it was all his. Power is a funny thing.

_It'll make the wisest of men go forget everything and the calmest of men monsters._

When he was just a little boy in school, he read the tales of pirates and the sea being untamable. He challenged that. His philosophy was that anything could be taken over, controlled, if you must, if you simply set your mind. And set his mind he did.

He crawled his way to the top. Went through any obstacle in his path. Cut down anyone trying to stop him. And now here he was. He was content as a lord but there was something else he wished to possess and he was looking out at it. That goal, however, was coming close.

"Lord Beckett-"

He swiftly turned around and glared at the butler, annoyed.

"What is it?" he asked. "Don't just stand there and waste my time."

"She has arrived," the butler responded, almost scared. "Your fiancé has arrived, my lord."

"Finally," Beckett whispered to himself. "You may leave."

The butler quickly disappeared and Cutler smirked to himself. He turned around to take one last view of the ocean and gulped down the drink.

* * *

"Father, it's so good to see you," she lied as she put herself into her father's embrace. She quickly stole a glance to the man standing next to her father.

_That must be him._

"My dear Veronica," Lord Sharp bellowed. "How was your voyage? Good I presume?"

"It was fine," she said, as she stopped the forced embrace and backed away. "And where is Jakub?"

"He's busy with some things," her father explained.

"Too busy to greet his baby sister?" Veronica teased, raising an eyebrow. She looked over at the man once more, locking eyes with his own. His glare felt like it was pulling her down. She looked away.

"Ah, where have my manners gone?" Lord Sharp said. "This here is Lord Cutler Beckett, Veronica. He is your fiancé."

"Pleased to meet you, Lord Beckett," Veronica forced herself to spit out. She curtsied, eyes looking down to the ground.

"Believe me," Beckett smugly said, "the pleasure is all mine." He took her hand and bent down to give it a kiss.

When he let go, Veronica smiled politely.

"How do you like it in Port Royale so far, darling?" Beckett asked.

Veronica almost choked. Had he just called her darling? She looked around, almost as if looking for an answer. She noticed the officers standing behind her.

"Actually, I can already tell that this place has very nice people, _Lord Beckett_," Veronica drawled out, smiling. She casually started to walk over to the Commodore James Norrington. "For instance, I don't recall ever meeting such nice of a man as this fine commodore standing right here." She smiled and patted James on the back.

Beckett sent a glare while James nervously cleared his throat. Veronica smiled- feigning innocence. She knew she was pushing it.

"Veronica, I don't think such-" Lord Sharp started.

"But I'm not too sure yet," Veronica finished, walking back. "I'm sure there are some mean men walking around in this port."

"Let's not talk of such foolishness," Lord Sharp said, almost fake laughing. "I'm sure my daughter has had a tiresome trip. Veronica wouldn't you like to lie down; maybe eat something?"

"I would father," Veronica said. "Thank you." She turned to Beckett and curtsied once more. "It was very nice to meet you, Lord Beckett. Now if you shall excuse me-"

Veronica turned to leave, however, it was her father's voice that stopped you. "I think you are mistaken. You'll be leaving, Veronica."

"This isn't your home father?" she asked, embarrassed. "Forgive me. If I could only hide my blush-"

"This is my home," Lord Sharp informed. "However you won't be staying here."

"Very amusing," Veronica laughed. "I suppose the streets will be comfortable enough."

"Enough," Lord Beckett interrupted. "You shall be leaving with me and staying in my home."

Veronica looked to her father in astonishment. "Father! Won't this look foolish? Staying in my husband's home before we are even married! I haven't even known him long enough to-"

"Do not raise your voice against me," her father commanded harshly. "You will do as commanded. Now go."

Veronica looked from Beckett to her father, then back to Beckett, and she even turned around to look at the commodore. Surely this had to be a joke. She turned around only to see Beckett standing right in front of her, her father gone.

"Come," Beckett commanded as he placed a harsh hold on her upper arm. "There's no time to stick our fingers in our ears and stare in stupidity."

Veronica was about to open her mouth in protest when she checked herself.

_I must try to remember my 'place' in this god-forsaken society._

Veronica allowed herself to be dragged out the doorway and into a carriage. She situated herself in the soft, cushioned seat and looked out the window. She felt the seat sink lower.

_Oh goodness, this is uncomfortable._

She tilted her head to the side and snuck a glance at him. When he turned to look at her she looked away. The ride seemed incredibly long and when the carriage finally stopped she noticed it wasn't any where near a house. Instead she found herself looking at a large stone prison.

"Where are we, Lord Beckett?" she asked, almost poking her head out the window to get a better view. "I thought we were going to your estate."

"You thought?"

"Yes. I thought," she said, confused.

"Thinking. Something a woman shouldn't pride herself in doing," he grumbled. Veronica almost scoffed. "I need to run a fast errand, love," he explained boringly. "You can go ahead and take a look now. Don't think I'll allow you to go near this prison ever again."

Veronica watched as he exited the carriage. When he was for sure gone, she rolled her eyes and looked out the window. "What a pompous jerk."

She looked at how high the stone wall went and winced as the sun caught her eye. She imagined it would be impossible to escape the prison. Some people probably in there would never see freedom ever again.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Saying Goodbye**

Author's Note: Thanks to the select few who reviewed. Hopefully I'll get more? I had chapter two written already and couldn't help but put it up.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

"Horrible habit," she whispered to herself, squinting her eyes at her nails. She sat on a chair near a window, the natural sunlight cascading down on her. She brought her right index finger to her mouth and chewed away at her nail. "Disgusting habit."

"It certainly isn't the most attractive," a voice said behind her. Veronica nearly toppled over in her seat. She popped up and looked back. Hand on her heart, she was surprised to see him standing there, comfortable and calm.

"Jakub!" she yelled, gasping for breath. "I didn't hear you come in. You scared me half to death."

"So I did," he said, smirking. His hands were drawn behind his back, his posture stood tall.

Suddenly she remembered. She looked down at her thin nightgown that covered all the necessary parts; hell it even went past her ankles.

_Still, it isn't proper._

"I'm hardly decent, Jakub! It isn't polite to barge into a room. Who knows what I could have been doing!"

"Like what? You two already enjoying marital rights?" Jakub asked, smirking. He walked over to the bench by the foot of the bed and sat down.

"That's not what I meant!" she scolded. She shuffled to her bed and wrapped her robe tightly around her form. "How is it out in the real world? I fear this is the room I'll stay in for the remainder of my life; the man hasn't let me out once!"

"I don't blame him. I wouldn't want you walking around either. You need rest. You look horrible," her brother added. "Why don't you take a nap?"

"Thanks, Jakub. That makes me feel much better," Veronica replied as she took a seat next to her brother. "Besides, it's too hot to sleep- much less do anything else."

"You'll soon get used to it," Jakub commented. Then all went silent. Veronica never had an amazing relationship with her brother. Come to think of it, she never had a good relationship with anyone in her family. "Sorry I couldn't make it in the morning." Jakub stood and strolled to the window.

"It's just fine," Veronica replied. "I'm used to it."

Jakub didn't respond but simply said, "At least he supplied you with a nice view. You can see the docks, ocean, everything from here."

"Yeah. Pretty nice," Veronica nodded. "Try looking at it for an hour or two then see how nice it is."

"Well, I'll be on my way," Jakub suddenly said, turning. "It's close to dinner time. I wouldn't want to make you late."

"Thank you for visiting me," she thanked, curtsying. "I was pretty lonely."

"Ah not for long, my dear baby sister," Jakub teased. "Soon you're going to be a married woman."

_Don't remind me._

Her brother then took his leave, but someone else quickly came in.

"Good day, Lady Sharp," a big woman said, carrying a dress. She was at least three times Veronica's size. "I'm going to be your personal maid. Now we must get ready for dinner."

"Forgive me," Veronica said, tilting her mouth in false disappointment. "I'm not feeling hungry. The ride on the ship woke my stomach to a frenzy. I don't think I could even bare to see food."

"Nonsense," the maid said, setting the dress on the bed. "You need some more meat on those bones. Plus, Lord Beckett mentioned that you might say that. He has ordered you to come in any case."

"Ordered?" Veronica sighed to herself. "What have a become? A fiancé or a dog?"

* * *

She stared at herself in the mirror. She had worn these dresses before, her hair had been done like this in the past, but for some reason, she looked different. Her white porcelain skin glowed as she neared the mirror. She stared into her deep blue eyes. She tried to move closer, however, this was mission impossible with the dress she was currently in.

She backed away from the mirror and looked out the window. It was already sunset. She longed to watch, but it was time for dinner. And 'Lord Beckett would be most infuriated if Lady Sharp was a second too late' as her maid had bluntly put it.

A butler showed Veronica the way to the dining room and she grew more nervous with each step. Never slurp soup, keep the crunching to minimum when eating salad, and never take more on your fork than you can bite...She said all the rules in her head.

Veronica was seated next to the head of the table. This certainly was something new. Usually she was seated at least two seats from the head. She felt proud, but at the same time lousy. She wanted that privilege marrying someone she actually loved.

Lord Beckett finally arrived through the doors. Veronica stood as he entered and watched him as he walked around to her.

"Lord Beckett," Veronica greeted as she curtsied.

"We will be the only one's dining tonight," he informed. "You may call me Cutler. I wanted to make sure we had some time to spend together- alone."

Veronica smiled impatiently as Cutler pulled back her chair and seated her, and then took his own seat. He casually took his napkin and placed it upon his lap, as did Veronica. Soup was served first and Veronica greedily eyed the tantalizing cream of potato. She waited for Cutler to start, but he never did.

"_Veronica_," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching to a grin. "Your room is to your liking?"

Veronica shifted in her seat. "Yes. The view is fantastic, Lord Beckett."

"I told you to call me by my given name," he reminded. He reached down for his spoon, but then stopped. Veronica huffed. "The view, you say? Do you find the ocean appealing?"

"Yes. It's simply beautiful," she truthfully said. "And so vast. It almost makes me dizzy thinking about how far it goes."

"Well, you've traveled across it haven't you?" he teased, finally reaching down for his spoon.

"Yes. I'm so surprised," she said, chuckling. "I'm horrible with the rocking and what not but I love to look down at the waves splashing. Maybe one day I'll learn to tolerate the motions."

"Ah yes," Lord Beckett said. "I'll have to make sure to take you on some trips then." He finally started to eat. "But if you like views, you must see the one from my own personal bed chamber. It's to die for."

"I would like that very much, Lor- Cutler," Veronica said, the name new to her. "Cutler, I would enjoy that." She smiled as the lie spilled out. She gracefully lifted her spoon and dipped it into her thick soup.

"I understand that your brother gave you a visit today," Cutler said, leaning back in his seat, his elbow rested on the arm of the wooden chair.

"Correct," Veronica replied. "I really liked seeing him. One forgets what a sibling looks like after a couple years; I hardly recognized him."

"Your brother is a fine man indeed," Cutler said. "One of my favorite employees actually. Clean. Obedient. Mannered. I should hope the same from you."

"And I should hope I may deliver, Cutler," Veronica snapped back. "It would be most _horrible_ if I could not live up to your high expectations."

"Do not get fresh, girl," Cutler warned. "I do not fool around with my things. And that includes my wife."

"I'm honored to be one of your _things_," Veronica said sarcastically. "Tell me, Cutler, am I before or after your powdered wig?"

"It's Lord Beckett… actually," Cutler responded.

"Actually, I forgot when I cared," Veronica hissed, but then quickly covered her mouth in shock. Had she just said that? She looked to Cutler with a remorseful face. He narrowed his eyes at her. "May I be excused, Lord Beckett?" Veronica whispered, already getting up.

"No, I am dismissing you," he replied, taking his napkin from his lap and throwing it onto the table. "Such a shame that our lovely dinner was cut short. Charles, please remove this woman and bring her to her room."

"W-what?" Veronica asked as a butler came up to her and gently took hold of her arm.

"This way, Lady Sharp," the butler said, monotonously.

* * *

"I cannot believe the nerve of that man!" Veronica yelled to no one in particular. She was yet again stranded in her room. The curtains blew in the breeze and the bright moonlight poured in.

She struggled to find her way out of her enormous dress and into her nightgown, accidentally ripping part of the dress.

_Oh this is grand!_

She left the dress lying on the ground as she fell into her chair by the window. She crossed her arms angrily as her brow furrowed.

"I get all dressed, do my makeup, my hair, and how does he repay me? I didn't even take two bites of my soup!" She shook her head angrily. "'Come see my view, Veronica. It's to die for.' Well, FYI: I'd rather die than walk into your room."

This sprang new thoughts. She stopped talking and let her arms fall to her sides. Going into his room. She knew it was going to happen eventually. She would have to go into his room, his bed. She was, after all, going to be his wife. She shook the thoughts from her head. She wished she had someone to go to.

_I'll surely go crazy all by my lonesome!_

Her brother was no use, neither was her father. And what could she talk about with Beckett? She huffed. She was alone in this. Alone from the start. Alone in the end.

She sat up and looked intently out the window. She gazed at a rather large ship, the light in the lamps still lit. She strained to see anyone on the ship and noticed the commodore. Why couldn't her fiancé be more like him? He at least was a gentleman and seemed caring…enough. Or maybe he just _seemed_ caring. After all, the first time she saw her husband-to-be he seemed like a pleasant man. She found that that certainly wasn't the truth.

She sniffled and brought her hands to her face. Was she crying? She wiped the salty tears off her cheeks and looked at her moist fingertips.

"I take it we understand what happens when we step out of line?"

She turned her head and looked at the figure. Cutler Beckett took a seat on the bench at the foot of her bed and motioned for her to sit down. Surprising both him and her, she trudged over to the bench willingly and sat down next to him.

She couldn't control her emotions any longer. She gathered her head in her hands and continued to sob. She felt his arm snake around her waist and pull her into an embrace.

"There, there. Marriage is a difficult thing to get used to. I understand," Cutler soothed as he stroked her hair. "We must learn to take our place in this world. And your place happens to be as my wife and you must dutifully respect that."

He lifted her head by placing his finger under her chin. She nodded and sniffled.

"You must understand that I'm only here to protect you. As my wife, you will be expected to behave as one," he continued. "You're not just some whore from Tortuga. You're _my_ fiancé and I expect nothing less."

Veronica didn't seem to care to say anything back. She had no idea what Tortuga was and she had no idea why she was being so rude.

_I am his fiance after all. Right?_

He took her into his arms once more to comfort her. And she allowed him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Saying Goodbye**

Author's note: Thanks to all who reviewed in the past and are still reviewing. I really appreciate that someone takes the time to comment about how I'm doing.

Well then, where were we?

* * *

**Chapter Three**

She woke with a start and sat up. She surveyed her surroundings. She was in her room, the window open and door securely closed. There was no breeze at all and everything was still. It almost made her nervous. She gripped her white blanket in her hand and noticed she was in her bed. She didn't remember going to bed and falling asleep. The last thing she remembered was…

_Beckett._

Did he carry her to her bed and tuck her in? She didn't know whether to be pleased or disgusted. She sighed and brought her hand to her forehead. It seemed she broke out in a cold sweat. She fell back on the bed, her head landing on her pillow. Her light brown hair spread all around her head. How late was it? She turned to face the window and noticed it was certainly darker outside than before.

She pushed her covers aside and shivered as her bare feet touched the wooden floors. Tiptoeing over to the window, she noticed there were no lights on in the whole port except for a section of the town in the corner. She titled her head in curiosity and tapped her fingers against the windowsill as she leaned against it.

Meanwhile, Beckett stood on his balcony once again. He sighed and rubbed his temple with his fingers. When he was told that his bride had arrived at Port Royale, he expected her to know how to be a _bride_.

_Aren't girls born with that sort of thing?_

Yes, his dear fiancé was becoming more of a nuisance than he had planned. If it were up to him, he wouldn't get married. Not today, not in a week, not ever. He was content with filling his desires with his mistresses. But there were offspring in question and it was just not acceptable to have a child with anyone but a wife. And that was where Lady Veronica Sharp came in.

Perhaps he would send her to England once he knew they were expecting. He would see her maybe a couple times a year and she would raise his children until they were ready to come to Port Royale. Or maybe if she learned her place, he would grow fond of her and keep her here in Port Royale in his company.

Actually he had not yet decided what he wanted to do with his future. Of course he wanted to gain control of the sea and become more powerful, but as for staying in Port Royale, he sometimes wondered if that was necessary. No doubt he longed to go back to England-such a fine place. A fine place indeed.

Beckett turned away and walked back into his office. He grabbed a key from his desk and stuffed it into his pocket. Before leaving the room he looked back, making sure everything was in order.

* * *

"Rise and shine, Lady Sharp!" a loud voice yelled. Veronica groaned and pulled her sheets over her head. "The sun is poking its head out and it's time for you to poke out of this room!" 

"What do you mean?" Veronica asked, sitting up. She noticed her maid picking up the dress she had discarded so spitefully the night before. She looked to the window. "It's barely sunrise! What's the meaning of all this?"

"We must get an early start," her maid informed her. "I would imagine one would tire of this room."

"Yes. Of course," Veronica agreed, getting out of bed. "But this early? What happens to be the rush?"

"Well, we first need you get you bathed," the maid started. "I know you must be starving, being sent to your room without having dinner last night." The maid gasped and looked back at Veronica. She moved to the curtains to straighten them out. "Forgive me, Lady Sharp. Word spreads fast in this estate."

"So I am to understand I'm here to serve as entertainment for you and other servants?" Veronica asked, insulted. How dare they meddle in her life?

"No," the maid said quietly. She kept her eyes on the curtains. "Not at all, Lady Sharp."

"Well I don't see it fit that you should inform me about my personal life," Veronica argued. She grabbed her robe and roughly put it on. "And I will not just sit around and let you insult me."

Veronica stormed out of the room as her maid quickly followed, muttering apologies. Veronica knew she was being dramatic. She knew she was being mean. But at the moment, she didn't care.

She stormed down the halls going who knows where. She hadn't seen any of this house besides her room and the dining hall. There were doors all around her and Veronica wondered why Beckett would need so much space.

"Lady Sharp," her maid begged, "I implore you. Stop and we will turn around. We're wandering close to Lord Beckett's personal rooms. We wouldn't want to disturb him. Let's turn around now."

Veronica sharply turned around to glare at her maid. "Oh really? Since when did maids give me commands? Besides, Lord Beckett is going to be my husband soon. I should be able to see him whenever I like."

"You're going to see him?" the maid asked, eyes widening. "Please, Lady Sharp! I beg you. He'll suspect unhappiness and I'll be in a mess." The maid started to sink lower as she grabbed the bottom of Veronica's nightgown.

The sight almost made Veronica cry. She patted the nurse on the back. "Alright. Get up. Don't worry. We'll go back," Veronica whispered, trying to appease the maid. Just then the door opened behind them and both Veronica and her maid looked to the person coming out of the room.

James Norrington had experienced a few odd moments during his life, but none as awkward as this. James looked down at the future Lady Beckett who was being held on to for dear life by a rather large maid. He cleared his throat and shifted his eyes away. "'Morning."

"Yes," Veronica said. "It's a very nice morning indeed." Veronica lightly nudged her maid with her leg, signalizing her to stand up. And stand up she did.

"Commodore Norrington," the maid greeted, bowing slightly.

"Searching for Lord Beckett?" James asked, looking back at Veronica. "He's in his office- just behind these doors."

"Well then we shall keep our voices down," Veronica whispered. James looked confused and Veronica smiled. "I wouldn't want to distract him from his work."

"I would think he would want to see you now," James informed. "Lord Beckett has some business to attend to later on in the day, leaving no time to spend with you." Veronica shrugged.

_What a shame._

"I'm not even dressed properly," Veronica said as an excuse. "I wouldn't want to make a fool of myself."

"Very well, but I must take my leave now," James said. "I will be seeing you later on then."

"What for?" Veronica asked, confused.

"I guess I haven't told you then," James said, almost laughing at his forgetfulness. "Lord Beckett asked me to show you around Port Royale while he was away on errand."

"I'll be looking forward to it," Veronica said, blushing. "It will definitely be nice to get some fresh air."

"Yes," James agreed. "Well then, good day Lady Sharp."

"Commodore," Veronica said, slightly curtsying. She watched as he walked away then quickly turned to her maid. She grabbed her maid's shoulders. "Let's get out of here."

"You are going to give me a heart attack," the maid sighed. "I'm but an old woman. I've no more power in me for this."

Just then the door opened once more. This time it was her fiancé. He looked at Veronica and the maid with a raised brow. Veronica smiled charmingly.

"Good morning, Lord Beckett," Veronica greeted, curtsying.

"Lord Beckett," the maid also greeted, bowing her head.

"Morning," Beckett answered, looking for answers. "And what did I do to earn such a wonderful visit?"

Veronica stood tall and looked Cutler in the eyes. "I just wanted to see you." She moved closer to him, and wrapped her arms around his own.

She was surprised to see his face soften, but it was quickly hidden with a suspicious face. "With your maid?" he asked.

"Well, I needed to talk to you about that," she said sincerely. She looked up into his face with an innocent look. The maid looked to Veronica in fear.

"Well then," Cutler began as he wrapped his arm around Veronica's waist. "We can step into my office for a moment and discuss."

Beckett led Veronica into his office and she was surprised at the size of it. It seemed like a library, with shelves stacked with books, a huge map on the wall, and warm fireplace. It seemed almost too perfect. There were French doors left open, letting in the sunlight and leading onto the balcony.

"Come now," Beckett said as he let go of Veronica and walked over to his desk. Veronica neared his desk and played with her fingers as she thought of what to say.

"Well, you see," Veronica started. "I would like to ask for a change in maids."

He looked down at the pile of papers that sat on top of his desk. He lifted a paper and skimmed over it. "Is that so? Has something happened with your current one?"

"Oh no," Veronica replied. "Not at all. I just can't relate to her, Lord Beckett. Of course she is not around my age. I have nothing to speak to her about. I would just like a companion."

"A companion," Lord Beckett repeated to himself. He set down the paper and looked up at his future wife. "Is your husband not good enough a companion for you?"

"My lord," Veronica pleaded. "It is not like that at all."

"Then please," Lord Beckett chuckled. "Explain"

"Well," Veronica said as she shifted uncomfortably, "this relates to our conversation that we engaged in last night. As you said, marriage is a difficult thing to get used to. Maybe it will be better with at least an acquaintance by my side? I am just trying to be the best wife I can be." Veronica smiled adorably at her fiancé. He sighed and looked away.

"Very well, sweetheart," Lord Beckett answered. "You will be given a new maid." He walked to her and gently took her hands. Veronica struggled to smile back. "But she will be no companion."

_What does that even mean?_

Veronica nodded and looked up into Beckett's face. He gazed down at her and leaned closer- for a kiss. Veronica panicked and turned to sneeze, although it was a fake one. Cutler ended up kissing her cheek.

"My apologies," Veronica said. She backed away and took her arms free to rub her nose. "It seems I've caught the sniffles."

"So it would seem," Cutler hissed, glaring down at her. "Hopefully they'll clear up by our dear wedding night. But sniffles or no sniffles, on our wedding night I expect more than just a kiss upon the cheek."

_That sounded like a threat._

Veronica nodded nervously and started to make her way toward the door. "Well, Lord Beckett, I would hate to keep you any further. I'll miss you terribly today. The commodore already informed me about you having to take care of business later this evening. I really wish I could have explored the town with you."

"As do I," Cutler replied. He turned to go back to his desk. "'Till we meet again, darling."

Veronica smiled until she reached the hallway. When she closed the door behind her she frowned and rubbed the kiss off her cheek. She huffed and left, searching for her room.

Lord Cutler Beckett was a man who liked to know what was going on. He liked to be informed even about the smallest things. In fact, he was addicted. And even though the behavior of his fiancé had changed drastically, he knew it was phony. It annoyed him to no end that he could not figure out what she was thinking.

And even though she was just his wife-to-be, he needed to know.

_She wants a companion; I want a spy._


	4. Chapter 4

**Saying Goodbye**

Author's note: Well here's chapter four. I haven't even begun to think about chapter five so that might take a little longer to get up than these last chapters have been taking.

And SpacePotato, I'm glad I'm not the only one! I can only hope I'm doing him justice. I think I do horrible at writing him- Norrington too. And even though redneckgal (btw thanks for reviewing each chapter with positive feedback!) tells me she likes my Norrington, I feel that I suck at writing him. Thanks to all my other reveiwers- you know who you are.

But anyway, let's continue.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

She returned to her room only to find her maid waiting desperately. The maid nearly jumped at the sight of her entering the room. She looked with hopeful eyes, her hands neatly folded in the front. Veronica closed the door behind her and smiled to the maid reassuringly.

"I will be getting a new maid," she informed her, in a delicate voice.

"Goodness," the maid whispered, touching her forehead in contemplation. "What shall become of me? What did you tell the lord?"

"Don't worry," Veronica reassured. "It was nothing bad. I just told him that I needed someone closer to my age- to communicate with. He _surprisingly_ agreed."

"God bless you, child," the maid said, sighing in relief. "I would be most apprehensive if I was on the lord's bad side."

"You mean he has a good one?" Veronica asked, chuckling. "Well it seems today will be our last."

"It was a pleasure to serve you, Miss," the maid said, walking over to Veronica. "I've never actually participated in a conversation with any person I've ever served before."

"How dreadful. This wasn't much of a conversation to begin with," Veronica replied, smiling. "Hopefully we shall see each other again…" Veronica waited for the maid's name.

"Marie," the maid answered.

"Marie," Veronica repeated, her grin quickly fading to a disappointed smile.

The maid left the room and Veronica was left in silence. For some peculiar reason, she felt sad. It was just a maid. She hadn't even known her that long. She was really the reason why the maid was leaving. Why was she feeling so lousy?

Veronica took a seat in her chair and sighed. She never had a tragic past and she was never underprivileged. She really had nothing to cry over. But recently she felt as if she was losing touch. A little thing such as saying goodbye to a maid was seemingly depressing to her. She felt as thought everything was leaving her and maybe everything was.

* * *

She watched her step as she walked down the rocky streets, the commodore by her side. She smiled at all the commoners that stopped to watch her. She felt almost as if she were a puppet, or maybe some kind of freak show. She turned to the commodore hesitantly. 

"Why is everyone staring?" she whispered to him. "I feel so unwelcome."

"Well this is just my opinion," James started, clearing his throat, "but I expect they're wondering why you are walking with me."

"Why would they-" Veronica started but then stopped. "Of course. They'd rather see me walk with my fiancé."

"Maybe," the commodore said, walking with his hands near the small of his back. "They know to keep quiet, however." Veronica and the commodore continued to walk down the streets, Veronica still smiling at the people staring at her. "If I may ask, how are you getting accustomed to the marriage life?"

"Well as you know," Veronica started. "I'm not yet married. But, I am adjusting. Little. But I am adjusting nevertheless."

Veronica sighed and looked at the commodore.

"You know," she said, "everything is going so fast. It's like time flew out the window. It's only been a day and already I've dined with this man, snapped back at this man, _cried_ in front of this man, and he's already tried to kiss me and almost succeeded-"

Veronica looked to the uncomfortable commodore and stopped her chatting. She was rambling. She bowed her head in embarrassment and hid her face with her fan.

"My apologies," Veronica said. "I was letting my mind wander; thinking out loud. I shouldn't burden you with my petty problems."

"It's quite alright," the commodore replied. "Sometimes it's better to let things out then keep them bottled inside."

"Indeed," Veronica agreed, smiling and nodding. "I can only hope I don't shame my family and disappoint Lord Beckett. I wish that I am able to give him my heart."

"I believe he has enough hearts to last him a lifetime," the commodore mumbled under his breath, looking ahead.

"Pardon me?" she asked, looking up at the commodore under her hat.

"Forgive me," he replied, laughing. "Thinking out loud."

It grew quiet as they continued to walk. Veronica fanned herself with her fan and looked up at the harsh sun, almost cursing it. "It certainly is warmer here than in England."

"Just wait until the summer months," the commodore replied, a small smile adorning his face.

"Oh dear," Veronica laughed. "I don't think I'll be able to last."

James said nothing and Veronica felt her face flush. It seemed he was thinking of something else and hadn't even heard her speak. She was embarrassing herself way too much for her own liking.

"Could we maybe stop and look in the market? I love to browse," she asked, changing the subject.

"Yes of course," James responded. He led Veronica to the market and she almost gasped. There were so many stalls and shops, filled with colorful food, trinkets, and jewelry all from the Caribbean.

"How adorable," Veronica said in amazement and she walked up to a small shop. "_The finest Caribbean goods. _Well, we shall certainly see about that." She began to walk to the door.

"It's not the best of stores," James informed her. "Nothing that will reach your standards."

"You will find, commodore, that my standards are actually quite lax," she replied, smiling. She turned to go into the shop, Norrington staying in place.

Veronica looked at all the beaded necklaces hanging. She reached her hand up and wove her fingers through them. She turned to look at the store's owner who looked back at her nervously. She looked back at the jewelry.

She faintly heard some women gossiping.

_It never hurts to listen in._

"What is _she _doing here?" a woman with blonde and messy hair asked. "Doesn't she have maids to shop for her? And in a store like this? Just like the nobles to show off in front of others."

"I hardly think she's showing off," another woman said, this one with red hair. "Maybe she just wants to get the feel of Port Royale. She is, after all, going to be the lord's wife."

"Wife," the blonde scoffed. "She probably doesn't even appreciate him. I heard from Jaslene that heard from a servant from the house that she showed him her attitude last night. She became bad mannered. Stupid girl. He's a fine man. Any woman would die to at least touch him and she gets fresh. _What a wife_."

_Word does travel fast._

Veronica moved closer, still looking at the jewelry. She couldn't believe these women were talking about her when she right there.

"You do know all the servants in there have no lives," the red head replied. "So instead they like to meddle in other people's. Leave the girl be."

"Since when were you a saint?" the blonde asked. "If I'm not mistaken it was you who was invited to Lord Beckett's three days ago and it was you who spent the night."

"Being with nobility doesn't make you nobility," the red head answered. "Write that down. It'll be a lesson to you."

Veronica smiled. Even though she slept with her husband-to-be, she liked the red head. Turning around, she smiled at the blonde across the shop. The blonde smiled back and waved; that just infuriated Veronica.

She quickly turned around to leave. She looked to the owner and smiled. "Your shop is most pleasant. Thank you," she said, politely smiling.

The owner took off his dirty brown hat and bowed slightly to her.

She exited the shop. Commodore James Norrington was waiting outside and he smiled courteously as she walked up. "Find everything okay?"

"Well I certainly found some new things out," Veronica said, storming down the street. James followed after her, confused.

_Women._

"I suspect we'll be arriving back to the Beckett estate soon?" Veronica asked, looking back as James caught up.

"Correct," he answered. "We've about covered everywhere- except for the docks. Maybe Lord Beckett will take you there sometime."

Veronica started to walk down a street, really having no idea where she was going.

The commodore grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back. "My apologies, Miss," he started, "but that isn't the best side of town. I would be surprised if Beckett would ever allow such a thing as his wife to wonder around there."

"What makes it so bad?" Veronica asked, confused. So this is the part of town that she saw last night through her window.

"It's full of brothels, vulgar men, and prostitutes," he informed. Veronica blushed at his forwardness. "It's no place for a respectful lady such as yourself to roam in."

"I understand," Veronica replied, her voice soft and raspy. She listened the liveliness of the music being played and the roaring of laughter.

"Let us return," the commodore said, leading Veronica away from the street. "It's nearing dinner time already."

"Time certainly does fly by," she replied, smiling happily as she followed the commodore.

* * *

She was brushing her hair when she heard a knock on the door. She grew nervous- maybe it was Cutler. She set the brush down and turned in her chair. 

"Come in," she said with a slightly raised voice. She made sure to keep her voice low enough; ladies never yell.

The door opened slowly and hesitantly. Veronica watched intently when a small girl, around her age no doubt, walked into the room. The girl bowed slightly and looked up at Veronica.

"I'm to be your new maid," the girl whispered. Veronica sat in silence; she didn't know what to say. The maid was shorter than her with dark eyes, and thin brown hair that sat in a bun on top of her head.

"Well, I-" Veronica started then stopped. She searched for her words as her mouth mouthed what seemed like a foreign language. "Your name?"

"Julia, Lady Beckett," the maid said, straightening up again.

"I am not Lady Beckett yet," Veronica said, almost in anger.

"Forgive me," Julia said, her voice nearing a whisper. "I do not know much that goes on. I thought you and the lord had already exchanged vows."

"Julia, you aren't one for gossip then?" Veronica asked, getting up. She continued without waiting for Julia's response. "I have a feeling we're going to get along just fine." The maid finally smiled and Veronica laughed. "So tell me: how long have you worked in this house?"

"Oh I just started," Julia answered. "Before I worked in the governor's household. Today I was informed to come here and talk with Lord Beckett."

"Scary man, isn't he?" Veronica asked, sitting down on the bench. She wrapped her arms around her knees that she drew up to herself.

"Yes," Julia answered, laughing. "I was nearly scared to death when I heard I was to talk with him. I was most nervous actually being in his presence. He is quite powerful and can be quite intimidating- if that's what you mean. He may be shorter than some men, but he certainly doesn't lack in power."

Veronica found herself uncontrollably giggling. "He is quite short, isn't he? And maybe the power went to his head. He certainly likes to walk all over people."

"It seems as though you speak ill of him." Julia said, tilting her head back. "Aren't you going to be marrying him?"

Veronica's smile died down. That's all she needed- another person questioning her.

"And how do you speak ill of him?" Veronica snapped back. "You're his servant, aren't you? I'm surprised at your lack of loyalty."

"Forgive me, Miss," Julia said, apologizing. "I shall make sure to keep my mouth closed and keep opinions to my own person."

Veronica huffed and rubbed her forehead. "No," she sighed. "I overreacted is all. I don't want you to just be a ghost-not talking and just passing by."

"Well then my opinion is that we get you down for dinner," Julia said, gaining her confidence back. "I know you're not excited-to be dining alone that is."

"Alone?" Veronica asked, looking to Julia in surprise. Julia nodded slowly. Veronica laughed. " It's just a feeling, but I think I'll be able to bear it."


	5. Chapter 5

**Saying Goodbye**

Author's note: Here's chapter five. To DeppnBloom and anyone else who was curious, there will be pirates later on. What kind of Pirates fic would this be without the pirates we so dearly love? Haha. And to Icelands, I'm not really sure what the pairing is going to be for this fic. There maybe won't even be one. But Beckett and Veronica are going to be married so there's going to things going on between them. Other than that, I really can't tell you yet.

On with the story.

* * *

**Chapter Five**

The morning came as it always did. Veronica woke with a slight stir and sat up in her bead. Arms over head, she always was dramatic when it came to stretching. She had to say she was quite content at the moment. She had spent a nice, Beckett-free evening yesterday and this morning seemed almost relaxing. Veronica got out of her bed and jumped in surprise when she heard knocking.

"Miss," she recognized the voice as Julia's. "Miss, are you up?"

"Yes," Veronica responded, hugging herself with her arms. "Yes, you may enter."

The door opened and in came Julia, carrying a dress that was the size of her. She shuffled over to the bed and set it down. "A present- from your father," Julia informed, turning to Veronica with a wide grin.

"It certainly is beautiful," Veronica said, walking to the dress. She touched the delicate fabric and admired the intricate design. "Did he say the occasion?"

"Yes he did, Miss," Julia replied. She opened her mouth but then stopped, her lips curving into a disapproving frown. "It positively is dark and gloomy in here." She moved to the windows and spread open the curtains. Veronica squinted when the sunlight poured in, not adapted to the blinding light.

"And the occasion?" Veronica asked, taking a seat on the bed next to the dress.

"You are to wear it to dinner tonight, Lady Sharp," the maid said, now tying the curtains back. "Your father will be joining you and Lord Beckett tonight. I suppose they have some news."

"Indeed," Veronica responded, nervously. She had no doubt it was about the wedding- when and where it would take place.

"Tell me, Julia," Veronica started. "Have you ever been in love?"

Julia gasped at the word as though she had just witnessed a miracle. "Love, Miss? Not yet. I hope to however. How does it feel to be in love?"

Veronica raised her brows in surprise. "In love? Who? Me?"

"Yes," Julia said, eyes widening. "How does it feel to be in love- to be getting married?"

_Being in love and getting married are two separate things._

"Well, Julia," she started, clearing her throat. "I have only been in 'love'for a couple of days now. I'm still new to the whole thing. But from what I know, 'love' just makes you want to grab the other said person in 'love' and shake them. It makes you want to clutch a pillow, run onto a balcony, and scream until your voice is gone!"

"Oh how joyful!" Julia exclaimed, clapping. Veronica rolled her eyes.

"Yes," she replied. "Very _joyful_."

"What if I shall never fall in love?" the maid asked, getting impatient. She sat down next to Veronica on the bed and grabbed her arm in fear. "What if I can never find a fine man to marry- like you did!"

"It will happen," Veronica reassured, placing her hand over Julia's. "You'll fall in love. You just have to wait." Veronica sat up and moved away, grumbling under her breath, "Like I still am."

"How about when you get married?" Julia asked, getting deeper into the conversation. "Have you thought about children?"

Veronica nearly keeled over. "Children?"

"Yes children," Julia replied. "You know- offspring."

"Oh yes," Veronica said, walking to her vanity and placing her hand on it. She looked back at Julia who had her eyes plastered on her, waiting for an answer. "Yes I hope to have children."

"Have you thought of any names?" Julia asked, shaking her head, wanting more. "Maybe how many kids you desire to have? Or when?"

"Julia, I tire of this subject," Veronica replied. She looked away, chin held high. "Isn't there anything else to talk about?"

"Have you had any other past relationships?" Julia blurted out. Veronica huffed. Was she actually asking her this?

"I don't feel inclined to tell you such personal things," Veronica replied, defensively. She waved, dismissing the subject. "Can we have some tea this morning?"

"How does tea in the garden sound?" Julia asked, trying to please Veronica almost in apology. "The smells are wonderful in the morning with the mix of scents- flowers and dew."

"There's a garden?" Veronica asked. She continued without Julia's response. "Sounds quite enchanting."

* * *

Veronica looked at herself in the mirror as Julia toyed with her hair. Her head bobbed back and forth, side-to-side, as Julia pulled away at pieces and placed them in an elegant style. She watched Julia's face as she worked. Her tongue was stuck out and her brows furrowed in deep concentration. Veronica almost laughed. 

"All done, Miss," Julia said, stepping back and admiring her work.

Veronica looked at her hair and her jaw almost dropped. "I look like a squash."

"A squash, Miss?"

"Yes," Veronica replied, putting a hand up to her hair. "No offense or anything Julia, but I look like a bloody squash!"

"That's how girl's wear their hair nowadays," Julia explained.

"I know, Julia," Veronica replied. "I haven't died and come back to life. I am informed about styles, but that doesn't mean I shall conform to them."

"Lady Sharp," Julia sighed. "You look _beautiful_."

Veronica looked back at Julia, who had an exasperated look on her face and hands dropped helplessly to the side. She sounded…_sincere_.

"All right Julia," Veronica groaned. "Let's get go, shall we?"

Julia nodded in sudden excitement and clapped her hands together. "Lord Beckett will positively die when he sees your beauty!"

"Well then," Veronica said, standing up from her seat. "Let's pray to god that tonight I'm the prettiest girl he's ever seen."

Julia giggled, missing Veronica's point. Veronica followed Julia out of the room and to the dinning room.

_How did she memorize this house that quickly?_

Julia stopped in front of the dining room doors and turned to Veronica. She took her hands in excitement and smiled. "Well, here we go!"

"Julia, if you get this excited every time I go to dinner, you'll surely croak in a week."

"My apologies, Miss," Julia almost squealed. "I'm just so excited for you. Lord Beckett is such a fine man. He's so polite and charming, not to mention good looking."

"Well maybe I can introduce you two and _you_ can marry him," Veronica suggested, rolling her eyes.

"Don't be silly," Julia said, nudging Veronica towards the door. "Have a pleasant dinner."

"Oh I shall," Veronica whispered to no one as she listened to Julia's footsteps fading. She took a deep breath and straightened her skirt before opening the doors. She smiled to her father as she walked into the room.

Beckett and Sharp were still standing, meaning they had arrived only a second before her. She walked up to them as gracefully as she could. They were both holding their glasses of Brandy.

_I could use a couple of those._

"Father," Veronica greeted, hugging him gently. She turned to Beckett and curtsied. "Lord Beckett."

He held out his hand and Veronica reluctantly took it. He bent down to give it a kiss. She smiled politely and took her hand back, rubbing it against her skirt.

"Veronica, my daughter," Lord Sharp started, "how have you been?"

"I've been grand, father," she replied, trying to smile as genuinely as possible. "Thanks for your concern."

"My daughter's well-being is always my first concern," he responded, laughing.

_Yeah right._

She looked to Beckett who was looking at her with a smug smile. She switched her attention to the floor nervously.

"Well then," Beckett finally said. "Let's not delay dinner any further. Let's begin, shall we?" Cutler held out his arm and Veronica took it. He led her to her seat and pulled out her chair. She smiled and sat down.

When everyone was situated, the soup was served first. Veronica ate her soup quietly as her father and fiancé discussed business and politics. She never really found any reason to pay attention to those subjects. But soon the conversation drifted to another topic and Veronica found herself in the spotlight.

"Are you excited about the wedding, Veronica?" her father had so openly asked. Veronica scratched her neck and felt butterflies in her stomach.

"Any bride-to-be would be excited for her wedding," she responded, looking at Beckett in the corner of her eye. He seemed quite interested in the given topic.

"Of course," her father agreed. He turned to Lord Beckett. "When Veronica was just a little girl, she would ask if she could get married and would play pretend that she was walking down the aisle. One time she even fished out her mother's wedding dress and put it on. She was nearly swimming in it."

"Father," Veronica warned, embarrassed. "Lord Beckett doesn't interest himself in things naïve seven year old girls do."

"I believe I know what interests my own person," Cutler responded, looking very amused. "And I would love to hear stories of a young Veronica."

Veronica looked away as a blush crept onto her face.

"I have so many stories that you wouldn't even believe," Lord Sharp informed, laughing. "But we'll save those for another time."

_Good._

Veronica looked back and sighed in relief.

"Why we are really having dinner today is to give some good news, Veronica," her father said. Veronica sat up straight, now very interested.

"Well I am very excited to hear the said good news," she replied.

"It's about the wedding," her father answered, stating the obvious. She nodded impatiently. "It will take place in one week. On the fine day of Sunday."

"One week?" Veronica asked, thinking she heard wrong.

"Yes," Lord Sharp confirmed. "One week."

"What foolishness is this!" Veronica responded, taken aback. "One week? We'll have no time for an engagement party. My close friends in England won't make it here in time for the wedding if it's to be in one week!"

"Now, let's not get dramatic," Lord Sharp advised. "One week and that's final. Lord Beckett's going to be going out to sea for business soon. It's imperative that we have the wedding before then."

"But I-" Veronica even looked to Lord Beckett for help. He only glared at her in annoyance. "Who will be at the wedding? It's such short notice."

"Invitations have already been sent out," Beckett now butted in. "This date has been set a while ago."

"A while ago?" Veronica asked to no one. "Then everyone already new about this. Why do I find it ironic that a bride is the last to know about her wedding date?"

"Your whining isn't going to help anything Veronica," Lord Sharp warned. "I thought I brought up my daughter better than this."

Veronica looked to her father in surprise. She gained her composure and took a deep breath, obviously humiliated. She brushed a stray piece of hair away from her face. "One week?"

"One week."


	6. Chapter 6

**Saying Goodbye**

Author's note: Well after spending the night at my friends and getting no sleep, I have to say I am a little proud that I'm getting this up rather than sleeping. Well here it is- chapter six. It will take a couple more chapters to start the real conflict. I still need to get one little thing in- and we can't forget the wedding. Thanks to everyone and anyone who reviewed. I really appreciate it.

Well here it is.

* * *

She smiled as her father left, her hands neatly folded in front of her. Lord Beckett had walked to the carriage with her father discussing which left Veronica alone waiting by the door, nearly shaking. Dinner went by incredibly awkward and sitting in the parlor after didn't turn out any better. It already felt like everything was moving way too fast. 

_But my wedding? In one week?_

It seemed as though her father and Lord Beckett thought of it as a burden that they wanted to be rid of as fast as they could. She watched Lord Beckett as he made his way back to the house. She listened as his clean, shiny boats stepped on the rocky driveway. She played with her fingers in nervousness.

"Join me in my office," Beckett said when he entered the house, almost as if commanding it. He held out his arm and Veronica took it. She looked back at the butler closing the door and Beckett led her away.

"Lord Beckett," Veronica started with a huff. "I would like to take the opportunity to apologize for my behavior at dinner. This week has been very stressful. I know I shouldn't have shown my anger. It wasn't right."

"No, it wasn't," he agreed. She looked at him surprised. He was agreeing? Wasn't he supposed to comfort her saying something along the lines of, "I understand and I forgive you."?

They reached Beckett's office and he opened the door for her. "Ladies first," he mumbled, nudging her into the office.

Veronica was surprised to see someone in Beckett's office. The man was taller than Lord Beckett, but certainly didn't come close in looks. The man looked at her almost in anger and Veronica found herself questioning what she ever did to him. Maybe he was just angry at the world and anyone or anything in it.

"Mr. Mercer," Cutler said. He took his arm from Veronica and turned to her. "It seems you've not yet been introduced to my fiancé. This is Lady Veronica Sharp."

Veronica looked at this Mr. Mercer character and smiled politely. He stared at her, almost as if he was trying to figure her out. She moved closer to Beckett and rested her hand on his arm.

"Pleased to meet you, Lady Sharp," Mr. Mercer said, holding out his hand. Veronica looked to Beckett then to Mercer. She slowly took her hand away from Beckett's arm and placed her hand in Mercer's.

_Please don't kiss it._

Luckily for her, he merely shook it. She took her hand back. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Mercer."

"Mr. Mercer is my assistant," Beckett explained. He motioned over to a couch. "Please excuse us while we take care of some quick business."

Veronica nodded courteously and excused herself. She took a seat on the couch as Beckett and Mercer walked over to Beckett's desk. She stared at the fireplace as she listened to the shuffling of papers and their voices as they spoke. She looked to the side out the window and gazed at the large bright moon. Suddenly a chill came over her and she wrapped her arms around her body.

Veronica didn't even notice that Mr. Mercer was leaving until he spoke. "Goodnight, Lady Sharp," he said, before opening the door.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Mercer," Veronica replied routinely. Mr. Mercer nodded and left the room. Veronica listened to the door shut and looked back at Beckett.

He was seated at his desk, writing away. Veronica swallowed nervously. She didn't know whether she should walk up to him or stay seated on the couch. Thankfully, he answered for her.

"Just a second," Beckett said, not taking his eyes of his work. Veronica nodded even though she knew he couldn't see. She turned back around to look at the fireplace once more.

It was only a short time before she heard Beckett's proud footsteps getting closer and closer. She looked up at him when he made it to the couch. He held out his hand and Veronica took it. He helped her up from her seat, but didn't let go of her hand. He kept his hold but moved it to her wrist. Quickly, he removed her white lace glove and discarded it on the floor. Veronica felt herself hitch a breath as he inspected her hand, rubbing her palm.

"Such delicate fingers," he said, now looking up at her. He flipped her hand over and traced her lifeline. "Long lifeline."

"You believe in such things, Lord Beckett?" Veronica asked.

"Hardly," he responded, letting go of her hand. She let it fall to her side. "Such foolishness. We make our own futures."

"Then you do not believe in fate?" Veronica inquired, looking up at him openly.

"Fate," he said to himself, giving almost a chuckle. He turned away, walking from the couch and to a table. "Fate is believed by the romantics and dreamers."

"Then you are not a dreamer?"

"Of course everyone dreams," Beckett replied, pouring Brandy into two glasses. "There are dreamers that dream and dreamers that achieve. What good is dreaming if you never pursue it? Some people think everything they ever wanted will just show up one day. The idiots."

Cutler took a glass of Brandy into his hands and held it out. Veronica looked around.

_Is he actually offering me some?_

Veronica didn't let go of the opportunity. She always wanted to know why so many men loved alcohol. Veronica gracefully walked over, trying not to look nervous. She took the tiny glass from Beckett's hand.

She watched him as he turned around, grabbing his own glass. "Fate," he repeated to himself quietly. Veronica missed it.

She made sure he wasn't looking as she sniffed the drink quietly. It certainly made her eyes water. She watched as he lifted to the glass to his mouth and gulped down the whole thing. She looked back at her own and brought it to her lips.

_Hell. If he could do it-_

She tipped the glass back and brought all of it into her mouth. She then figured that wasn't the best idea. She swallowed in a hurry, making sure she didn't spit it out. Her throat felt as if it was on fire and she started to cough.

Lord Beckett took the glass away from her, a small amused grin adorning his face. "Not a fan of brandy?"

"It's dreadful," she said, her eyes winced in pain.

"There's a glass of water on the desk," he replied. He turned to walk to a window as Veronica shuffled to the desk and grabbed the glass. She was thankful he wasn't looking as she chugged it down- very unladylike. She looked back at him. He stood in front of a window, his arms behind his back. She slowly walked and stood beside him, also looking out the window.

"Lord Beckett," Veronica whispered.

"What is it?" he asked, not taking his eyes away from the view.

Veronica looked up at him and bit her lower lip. "I don't mean to be a burden, in fact it's the last thing I would want to be-"

He then turned his head to look at her, curious at what she was going to say.

"But I would like to ask you if you could maybe give me a tour," Veronica asked, looking down at her hands. "Around the house. I mean it doesn't have to be today or tomorrow. It could be next week if you want. Anytime that's convenient."

"I suppose," Beckett replied. He turned to her and took her hands in her own. She looked up at him and felt her throat go dry. "What good would a wife do walking around lost in her own home?"

Veronica smiled and nodded.

_I guess he isn't __that__ bad._

"Thank you, Lord Beckett," she said. "It really means a lot to me."

Lord Beckett pulled Veronica forward into his arms and she started to grow nervous. Beckett leaned down and Veronica made up her mind. She was going to be the best fiancé and soon wife that she could be. She leaned forward and almost gasped when she felt his lips upon hers.

This, surprisingly, was not Lady Veronica Sharp's first kiss. Veronica was actually only fourteen when she had kissed a boy. She always played with the boy and she had to admit that he was a rude little pig. He had scruffy hair and a nose that was always scrunched in anger. He always pushed her down and called her rude names. They never really got along. It wasn't until they were older that Veronica took interest.

She was new to this. Boys always had cooties but suddenly that philosophy had disappeared. He still teased her and pulled her hair, but Veronica found herself enjoying his attention. One day when they had grown and it was just them two, Veronica had leaned forward and pecked his lips. He obviously took the chance and kissed her back. At the time Veronica had felt rebellious and mature. She felt so defiant as his tongue slid into her own mouth.

Veronica started to get nervous when she arrived at home. She paced back and forth until she couldn't take it any longer. She ran to her brother as she always did and cried as he patted her on the back. He didn't offer any comforting words. He merely said he would take care of it. And take care of it he did.

Yes, Veronica certainly remembered her first kiss. And if she remembered it as well as she thought she did, she could tell Lord Beckett was certainly a fine kisser.

Veronica looked away uneasily as the kiss ended. She felt his hands move to her waist as he leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"Till tomorrow, sweetheart," he simply said. He let go of Veronica, only holding one hand. He led her to the door and nearly shoved her into the hallway. Veronica didn't mind however. That man certainly took her breath away that night.

Lord Cutler Beckett poured himself another drink when he reentered the room and smirked. Yes, he was certain he had his fiancé wrapped around his finger now. He felt her shake as he had kissed her. Either it was out of fear or excitement; either way it was good. He knew the benefits of having a wife that feared him and he knew the benefits of having a wife that adored him.

But right now he only needed her loyalty and devotion.

_And I'm certain I have it._


	7. Chapter 7

**Saying Goodbye**

Author's note: This was my second night in a row without sleep and I'm pretty surprised I wrote this so fast and without any sleep. After going to my friend's house to swim, I'll most likely sleep the rest of the day. So no writing until tomorrow. But here's chapter seven. I'm planning the wedding to be in the next chapter or two and then things will take off. Thanks all who reviewed. It really means a lot and it keeps this story alive and going. Thanks once again.

This chapter's a little on the short side. My apologies for that.

Here's chapter seven.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

She brushed her fingers through her hair as she stared at her reflection gazing back at her. Her hair was certainly longer than before. She had cut it before leaving for Port Royale, but it grew considerably long during the lengthy voyage. Her hair was darker before, but the harsh sun had lightened it a tad bit.

_Shame._

She sighed, blowing a piece of hair away from her face. Her life in England was drastically different. She lived almost an independent life- her brother and father far away. Usually she cuddled with a book as she listened to the rain fall- and boy did the rain fall. In an odd sort of way, she almost missed the rain- the comfort that filled her when she heard the pitter-patter of the raindrops hitting the trees outside her window.

She also missed Amelia. The lazy, white cat was always her favorite companion. She would curl on Veronica's lap and on top of her book. Veronica would always try to lightly nudge her off, but Amelia was a stubborn little brute. How she dearly missed her beloved Amelia. She begged for permission to have the cat to come along, but her aunt defined it foolish.

_Foolish. What in this world wasn't foolish? _

As much as she missed her life in England, she knew she couldn't dwell on the past. Port Royale was her new home and she would just have to get used to it. She had met some fairly nice people in the past few days. Perhaps all she needed to do was make the incentive to be more social.

The environment was drastically different too, no doubt. Everything was so exotic, so tropical. It was almost like a getaway that would never end. It felt like all of this was a dream, maybe even a nightmare. Perhaps one day she would just wake up in her bed in England and everything would return as it once was.

She turned around abruptly and let out an exasperated sigh. She watched as her maid shuffled around the room, straightening her skirt and fixing her hair.

"Julia," Veronica sighed. "You're positively making this a bigger deal than it is."

"Forgive me, Miss," Julia responded, stopping her pacing. "I'm just so nervous- walking around town next to you. You're going to make me look so unsightly."

"You're going mad," Veronica said, standing up from her vanity chair. "I should be the one nervous about looking bad next to you."

"Don't flatter me," Julia said, laughing. "You're only saying that because you want to leave."

"Can you blame a girl?" Veronica asked, dropping her hands in frustration. "Cooped up in this house. I can barely stand it. It'll be nice to walk around without someone watching my every move for Lord Beckett."

Veronica was surprised when Julia didn't say anything back. Julia twiddled her fingers nervously and tapped her foot. She looked away.

"I suppose we should leave now," Julia suggested in a low whisper. "We mustn't waste the day."

"I think it's well wasted already," Veronica replied sarcastically. She looked to the window and opened her mouth in false shock. "Oh look. I take that back. It's still day!"

"Very funny, Miss," Julia said, embarrassed.

Veronica and Julia walked through the halls and toward the front door. Julia was muttering about useless things, as Veronica was making sure they wouldn't run into Beckett. Sure the man had wooed her a couple nights ago, but that blew over eventually. She was a woman after all- she couldn't help but get all starry eyed at the moment.

She also couldn't help but be sour. He had gone through with a quite unexpected action yesterday. Veronica almost called it a bluff at the time. It was a rainy day; it certainly reminded her of England but the rain here in Port Royale smelled incredibly different. She had been sitting on a chase in his office as he worked. She wasn't able to go to the garden because of the rain. Bored with her crocheting, she wandered over to his books.

The books were lined from floor to ceiling. Veronica smiled absentmindedly. She grazed the spines of the books with her fingertips. There were so many. Pulling out a book from the shelf, she turned to notice Beckett staring at her. She looked back at him in confusion.

"Aphra Behn," she whispered, waving the book. He said nothing as he continued to stare her down- almost studying her. His twirled his quill in his hands. Eventually he casually got up from his seat and walked over to her.

"'_Money speaks sense in a language all nations understand_'," Beckett said. He stood in front of Veronica, looking down at her intently. "About the only intelligent thing she has ever spewed out of her mouth. All the rest is nonsense."

"You have to admire her openess," Veronica defended. "Not many women, or men for that matter, would speak what's on their minds as she does."

"You say that as if it's a bad thing," he replied, smiling smugly. He held out his hand. "The book."

"Lord Beckett!" Veronica nearly gasped. She hugged the book tighter to her form, almost as if protecting it. "This has to be some kind of joke! You cannot stop me from reading a book!"

"But you'll find that I can," he said, not fazing his glare on her. She looked down at his hand firmly standing in place. It was odd how he remained calm. That's probably what scared Veronica the most. Slowly, she placed the book in his hands.

Yes, Lord Beckett really did confuse her. She just couldn't seem to figure him out. She hated how she had become so dependent on him. She couldn't even leave the house without his permission. She practically had to beg him to allow her out of the house without someone besides Julia. She needed his money, his clothes, food- she hated it. Well maybe not all of it. She was a girl and any girl loves to be doted upon. She had to admit, she liked how he showered her with gifts and expensive things. Being fitted for new dresses really made her day yesterday.

She turned to Julia when they reached the front door. Yes they had made it safely. Veronica smiled as Julia continued to ramble.

* * *

"Miss, I'm terribly tired," Julia huffed. Veronica and Julia had walked around the town and chatted with people. Julia followed happily while Veronica bit her lip nervously. "Shouldn't we be heading back soon?"

"Julia," Vernonica said, turning around abruptly. Julia jumped back in surprise. "Julia, we are friends right?"

"Friends?" Julia asked.

"Yes, _friends,_" Veronica repeated.

"I _suppose_ we could be friends," Julia responded, shrugging her shoulders. "I enjoy your company and I _suppose_ we do have pleasant conversations."

"Yes," Veronica agreed. "And as a friend, you would want to have fun with me right?"

"Oh of course!" Julia replied happily.

"And what is funner than being daring?" Veronica put her arm around Julia and they continued to walk. "Think about it. Daring. That could be loads of fun."

"I suppose," Julia replied, looking to the side at Veronica. "Oh! We could wander around the fort and make friendly chat with the navy boys. Oh I fancy those navy boys."

"Julia," Veronica replied, sighing. "That is hardly daring."

"It is very daring if I do say so myself," Julia said. "There could be risks and consequences. Risks can be taken and consequences can be avoided."

"I was thinking more along the lines of-"

Julia shook her head as she found herself standing in front of the street that led to the badder side of town.

"Miss, you've gone mad!" Julia said, jumping and turning around. "Honestly!"

"Julia," Veronica said, grabbing Julia's shoulders. "Keep down. You're going to attract attention."

"I'm going to attract attention?" Julia asked, lowering her voice to a whisper. She leaned in closer to Veronica. "You're the one who has let the sun get to your head! What should happen in there? Anything could happen! Anyone could see us! This could get out."

"Like you said," Veronica replied, "Risks can be taken and consequences can be avoided."

"Well, I hardly thought you would want to go in _there_!" Julia replied. "Miss, I apologize we cannot go in there. If your fiance was here he'd be having a heart attack- listening to his wife-to-be spew this incredible nonsense!"

"Julia, you're making this a huge ordeal," Veronica pleaded. "It's probably not even that horrible. It's probably exaggerated. C'mon Julia. This could be exciting."

"I've been in that side of town and, yes, it isn't that bad. But there is nervousness in the air," Julia replied. "It certainly isn't Tortuga. But it is no place for a fine lady like yourself."

"It would be fun and exciting," Veronica repeated, drawling out the words.

"And I supposse tomorrow you want to get kidnapped by bloody pirates!" Julia yelled.

"Heavens no!" Veronica replied. "That would be horrible."

"_This _is horrible," Julia sighed.

"I see things differently," Veronica responded. She felt like a small child being scolded.

"He would never allow you in there!" Julia yelled, cutting Veronica off. "What would he think?"

"I don't care what he thinks!" Veronica hissed. "I'm my own person. I can do whatever pleases me. Not you, not my father, not that tiny devil that I'm soon to call my husband can stop me from doing that _I _want!"

"Miss," Julia gasped. She looked at Veronica with wide, shocked eyes and an open mouth.

Veronica immediately regretted saying all those things. She covered her mouth and looked away.

_How could I be so foolish?_

She looked around her to see if anyone else had heard her little outcry. Veronica had to admit she was ashamed of herself. She had spoken ill of her fiance, her _lord. _She knew she should respect all his wishes and listen obediently. She had no idea what had come over her.

"Julia," Veronica whispered, looking back at her maid. "Julia, I apologize."

Julia nodded slowly but didn't look at Veronica. "Maybe we should head back."

"We should," Veronica said, swallowing hard. She walked next to Julia as they headed back to the Beckett estate. Veronica tried to make small talk, but no good. Veronica noticed almost a look of conflict on her face- almost as if she was torn in two. Julia was silent the whole way back.


	8. Chapter 8

**Saying Goodbye**

Author's note: So lately my sleeping schedule has been totally off- that's pretty much the only thing about summer that I really don't like. I stayed up another night not really willingly and I've been trying to get it back to normal. But I managed to write another chapter and will keep writing. Thanks for all the reviews. As I said they keep the story interesting and alive. I was super nervous writing this chapter because sometimes I feel I write Beckett too cruel or not cruel enough.

And to slightly crazyy x3, I'm actually really glad someone doesn't like Veronica. I really appreciate your honestly. When writing the story, I try to make her bratish and I could really see why you wouldn't like her. But I'm super happy you told me that Beckett is in character. I would really hate to murder his character.

But anyway. Here's chapter eight.

* * *

She sat on her chair as usual, staring out the window but not necessarily looking at anything. She sat one leg propped up on the chair, her head rested on it. Rubbing her arms with her hands, she gave a heavy sigh.

She was for sure she would never see the outside of this house ever again. Recalling what happened not too long ago, maybe she would never see the outside of this _room. _She gave another exasperated sigh as she leaned her head back. A tiny teardrop escaped the corner of her eye and ran down her cheek; she never was a strong person

Who could have told? Maybe Beckett had sent someone to spy on her. Maybe some random person saw and immediately ran to tell him. Maybe-

"I told you he wouldn't like it."

Veronica sharply turned her head around and saw Julia standing in the middle of the room with her hands folded nervously in front of her. Veronica couldn't believe what she was hearing as she glared.

"You're the tattletale in all this," Veronica replied, standing up from her chair. "Do you know what you've done?"

"I protected you," Julia snapped back. Her hands unfolded and she held them in front of her for emphasis.

"You've sent me to the lion's den," Veronica interjected. "You should've seen his face."

Veronica had entered Lord Beckett's office a little after she had arrived back from town. A servant sent for her and at the moment she had no idea what it was for. Her heart raced as she walked in front of his desk. She twiddled her fingers.

"I know about the little stunt you've tried to pull," he said, keeping his eyes on his work.

"Stunt?" Veronica asked, feigning innocence.

"Yes stunt," he repeated. He lifted his face to look at her; Veronica looked away.

"My lord, I-"

"Get out," he ordered. "I'll deal with you later."

"I apologize, Lord Beckett," Veronica said. "Honestly. I truly am sorry."

"Have you gone deaf?" Beckett asked, obviously annoyed. "I thought I told you to get out."

Veronica remembered being speechless as Julia was at the moment. Veronica brought her hands to her forehead and rubbed her temples.

"Miss, I never meant any harm," Julia whispered, trying to explain. She walked closer to Veronica.

"Honestly I thought we were friends," Veronica said, mostly trying to make Julia feel guilty. "Friends are supposed to be loyal to each other. Now I can see that that was certainly not the case."

"I am your friend," Julia argued. "And I apologize but my loyalty belongs to my lord." Julia placed her hand on Veronica's arm, almost as if asking for sympathy.

"Now I understand," Veronica answered, swatting her hands away. "You were playing the Delilah in this whole thing. You were sent from the start to be a, a spy!"

"Miss, I-"

"I will not play the Sampson to your Delilah any longer," Veronica said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You may leave now."

"Miss, I will not leave until you understand," Julia said.

"I understand completely," Veronica replied, nodding her head and narrowing her eyes. "I understand that you betrayed me and went to Lord Beckett like a little dog and snitched."

Julia lowered her head and sighed in defeat and shame. She shrugged her shoulders slightly and turned to leave. "May I come back later, Miss?"

"I don't know," Veronica answered. "Lord Beckett might send for me and I may not come out alive."

"Very well," Julia responded, leaving. The door shut silently behind her.

Veronica huffed angrily and threw herself on her bed. She grabbed a pillow and hugged it tightly. Biting her lower lip, she felt her anger disappear and now it was replaced by sadness. She was feeling a strange emptiness in the pit of her gut. She situated herself differently trying to rid the uncomfortable feeling.

It was outrageously peculiar how things worked out; where loyalties lied and where betrayal lurked. She had to admit, she couldn't really blame Julia. The poor girl was put in a confused positioned- or in other words she was pressured. Yes, Veronica shouldn't put the blame on Julia, but she'd rather put it on Julia than herself.

Veronica now felt disgusted with herself. How could she ask or even think to do such a stupid thing as go into that side of town when she knew it was forbidden? And then she put Julia in a most compromising situation. Veronica was really mad at the world at the moment and at the time Julia was there to take it out on.

Veronica looked to the door, wishing Julia would walk back in.

* * *

"Lord Beckett wishes to see you, Lady Sharp," a butler informed when he entered her room. Veronica was almost thankful. It was torture to sit in her room, thinking about what he would declare- what would happen.

Veronica went over what she would say as she followed the butler to Beckett's office. She knew she that once she entered the room and saw him, all her planning would go out the window. It never hurt to try however.

The butler opened the door for her and she tip toed in. She heard the door close behind her as she glanced around the room. He wasn't sitting in his desk like he normally was, but instead was looking out a window, a glass of Brandy in his hands.

Veronica didn't know what to do-she wasn't sure he even knew she was there. She lightly cleared her throat and looked to her feet. A feeling of apprehension came over her.

"Come here," Beckett said. Veronica jumped as his voice cut through the silence. She took a deep breath before walking over to him, keeping her footsteps as light as she could.

She stood next to him. She desperately found herself wanting to say something, but she couldn't gather the right words.

"You've been a naughty girl," he said. He brought the brandy to his lips and drank it. "Very mischievous."

"Lord Beckett," Veronica finally said after gathering courage. "I apologize."

"For getting caught?" he asked. He twirled his glass in his hands and moved his head to look at her.

"No," she said, whispering pathetically.

"Lie," Beckett accused, looking back out the window.

"I apologize," she repeated, wondering how many times she would have to. "I was only curious."

"Curious," Beckett said after her. "I was actually really curious about what you said. 'That tiny little devil.' You flatter me."

"I was just-"

Veronica jumped in surprise when Beckett grabbed her wrist, letting his glass fall and shatter on the floor. "I tire of your useless excuses," he hissed, keeping his voice low and calm.

Veronica instinctively tried to pull her hand back but found her efforts to be futile. He had quite a hold and her strength was no match to his. She stiffed as he leaned in.

"This ends now," he whispered into her ear. "I don't know how to make this any clearer. I will not stand for anymore nonsense."

"There will be no more nonsense," Veronica replied, looking at him in the corner of her eye. He leaned back and she saw a small smirk on his face.

"The wedding is in two days," he started, keeping his hold on her wrist. "I expect no idiocy and after the wedding or else there will be severe consequences. Understood?"

"Yes," Veronica whispered.

"New plans," Beckett said suddenly. "I've decided that you're going to join me out at sea."

"Me?" Veronica asked, taking her free hand and resting it on her heart. "Out at sea?"

"I'm not in a need of an echo," Beckett replied. "Yes out in sea."

"But why?" Veronica asked. She couldn't fathom the idea of being on another ship. Traveling to Port Royale was enough time spent on a ship to last her a lifetime. She got queasy at the thought.

"I hardly find the need to explain myself to you," he said, finally letting go of her wrist.

Veronica looked away, feeling incredibly idiotic and pathetic.

"Since you showed me that you, in fact, cannot be trusted," Beckett started, walking away, "do not think you'll being given any more privileges." He walked out onto the balcony.

She followed him, wanting the last word.

"I'm not some child, Lord Beckett," she defended.

"If you act as one, you'll be treated as one," he replied, then looked back with a small grin on the corner of his mouth. "Simple as that."

It was silent for a while as they both sat on the balcony and a breeze went by.

"And when I said I wanted a new maid, I meant a maid-not a spy," Veronica replied. "So my next maid better not be another one of your _minions._"

"I don't believe you're in a position to be giving me any sort of orders," Beckett replied, taking a seat in a chair. "I haven't said anything about a new maid."

Veronica turned to look at him. "Well obviously you're going to give me a new one. You know I wouldn't let anything slip to Julia because I know she'll run straight to you."

"I know this comes as a shock you to, but the world does not revolve around Veronica Sharp, sweetheart," Beckett said, looking away from her almost bored. "Right now what you do is the least of my worries." Veronica looked away embarrassed, feeling incredibly stupid. "She will remain your maid."

Veronica had found nothing else to say and Beckett really didn't seem interested anymore. She turned on her heel to leave.

"I don't recall dismissing you," she heard him say behind her. She stopped from taking a step and turned back.

"May I be dismissed?" she asked.

He turned to look at her and gave her a slight nod. Veronica forced a smiled and curtsied. She was ready to turn once more before he interrupted.

"What? No kiss for your fiancé?" he asked, an amused grin on his face.

"Of course," Veronica gritted out as she turned back. "How could I forget?"

Veronica walked to him and noticed him looking her up and down- almost as if he was sizing her up. She bent down and gave him a peck on the cheek then turned away quickly to hide her blush.

"Honestly," he said, noticing her flush. "If you blush from a kiss upon a cheek, I really question how we're going to make it through our wedding night."

That made her blush even more.

"Goodnight, Lord Beckett," she said in a low whisper.

"Sweet dreams, darling," he replied, watching her as she left. On his face appeared a confident smirk.


	9. Chapter 9

**Saying Goodbye**

Author's note: Thanks all who reviewed. Pirates are coming soon!

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy matrimony."

She stood at the alter, studying the man before her. He was dressed elegantly of course and looked pretty content with himself at the moment. She sighed and looked to the priest who was still babbling away. She tried to focus on the words but it was useless. She snuck a glance back at the audience, or rather, guests. They watched with bored faces, a couple fanning themselves. She looked back at her groom.

_My groom._

An odd feeling of apprehension came over her and she looked to herself. Was she a bride? Sure she wearing something used, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. The train on her dress was still halfway down he aisle. Her hair had taken forever it seemed.

She sat in a chair while maid's worked away. She would grunt every time they pulled a little to hard. She remained quiet during preparations. One maid called it cold feet, but she felt as though the problem was a cold heart.

She suddenly took notice of what was going on as the priest and her groom looked at her impatiently. Vows? Already? She cleared her throat and straightened her posture.

"Veronica Sharp, do you take Lord Cutler Beckett to be your wedded husband to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love, comfort, honor, and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poor, in sickness and health? And forsaking all others, be only faithful to him to long you both shall live?" the priest repeated irritably.

Veronica eyes widened and suddenly it hit her.

_I'm actually getting married. Love? Comfort? Honor?_

"I-I do?" Veronica said, almost confused. She looked to Beckett who looked at her clearly irritated. "Yes, yes. I do." She looked to the priest and nodded her head.

Her thoughts drifted away after answering. She was actually getting married. She was going to be this man's wife! Veronica didn't even notice the priest going through Cutler's vows and his answer. She nearly jumped when Cutler took her hand.

She looked at his hands and noticed a golden band. Nervously, she looked up to Cutler. Moving closer, he held the band right before her finger.

"With this ring, I thee wed," he said, calmly and evenly. He moved the ring up her finger. "Take it and wear it as a symbol of what we shall share."

Someone then shoved a ring into her hands. She got a better hold of the ring and moved it to Beckett's finger.

"With this ring, _I_ thee wed," Veronica whispered, her voice raspy. Taking a deep breath, she slid the ring down his finger. "Take it and wear it as a symbol of what we shall share."

"Love is patient and kind. It is never jealous. Love is never boastful and conceited, it is never rude or selfish, it does not take offence and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people's fault, but delights in the truth. It is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope. It is always ready to endure whatever comes. True love does not come to an end," the priest said.

Veronica sighed and looked away. Her 'love' certainly didn't apply to the terms above.

"-By the power vested in me as a minister in Port Royale, I know pronounce you husband and wife," the priest concluded whole-heartedly. "You may now kiss the bride."

Beckett leaned in and gave Veronica the simplest of pecks on the cheeks. She found that incredibly ironic.

Veronica felt a tear run down her face as she took Beckett's arm. He led her down the aisle to his home and her new life.

* * *

"Congratulations on your marriage!" a larger woman exclaimed, gathering Veronica in an enormous hug. She let Veronica go and she smiled politely. "He's a fine man- a fine man indeed!"

"Thank you," Veronica said.

The lady leaned in and nudged Veronica with her elbow. "Keep on eye on him though. Any girl would die for him."

Now Veronica felt threatened. "Thank you for the advice. I'll make sure to do that."

The lady excused herself and shuffled over to a group of people. Veronica could hear her voice across the room. She turned to find her dad standing right in front of her.

"Father," Veronica gasped, slightly stumbling back. The dress that she was currently in offered little movement.

"Veronica, my dear," her father said, holding out his arm. Veronica took it and her father lead her to a balcony. "Today when I walked you down the aisle and gave you to Lord Beckett, I realized something."

"Please, father, don't," Veronica pleaded, taking her arm away from her father.

"I realized that we don't have the relationship that I want," he sighed. "And I realize that it probably won't ever happen. I'm leaving back for England soon and I needed to say this for we may never really have this moment again."

Veronica bit her lip in an attempt not to cry.

"There wasn't a moment where I was not proud of you," her father started. "I know your mother and I never had a great relationship and she turned you against me."

"No, father!" Veronica argued. "Do not make yourself the victim in this. Do not! Mother didn't turn me against you. I might have been a child, but I wasn't stupid."

"No ones the victim in any of this," her father explained with a low voice. "Everyone took part."

"I'm not going to stand here and listen to you blame everyone but yourself," Veronica stated. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a party to return to." She grabbed her dress and lifted it then continued to storm from the balcony.

She was contemplating the idea of leaving the party early until she ran into someone. She muttered apologies to this persons back, but as the person turned around she smiled, wiping tears away from her eyes.

"Commodore," she replied. She curtsied.

"Lady Sharp," he greeted. "Or I should say _Lady Beckett_."

Veronica's smile turned to a frown and she played the band on her ring finger. "Enjoying yourself?"

"I was never one for formal parties," he replied.

"Me either," Veronica responded. She studied the commodore in his uniform. Yes, he looked quite handsome. "Dresses, suites, dancing, chatting. I'd rather sit down with a book."

"The opposite of what would be expected," James replied. "Ladies usually enjoy these kinds of gatherings."

Veronica blushed. "My apologies, Commodore," she whispered. "I didn't mean to sound so careless."

"On the contrary," James started. "I admire it. Do you think your husband would mind if I could have a dance?"

"Well I've already had the first dance with him," Veronica replied, "I don't think he would care."

Veronica took the commodore's arm as he led her to the dance floor. Veronica found herself greatly enjoying herself. The commodore's person was much taller than her own, but luckily her high shoes made her reach his broad shoulders.

The dance has ended too quickly for Veronica and she found herself wanting to dance for one more song. But she was being led to her husband by the commodore.

"It looks as though Lady Beckett enjoys dancing," the commodore stated, letting go of Veronica.

"So it would seem," Cutler said, switching his gaze to Veronica. She shifted uncomfortably under his glare.

"Please excuse me," the commodore said, taking notice of the awkward situation. He left, leaving Veronica and Lord Beckett alone.

"Enjoying the party?" Beckett asked.

"Actually, it seems I've gotten a headache," Veronica replied. "Perhaps I should return upstairs to my room?"

"_My_ room," he corrected, then nodded. "Go find Charles."

"Yes of course," Veronica said, curtsying. She took her leave to find the butler. There were so many people she had to push through and every so often they would stop her to wish her luck in her marriage.

And at the time, she thought she needed all the luck she could get.

* * *

She looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was now elegantly half up and her thin nightgown glowed in the moonlight. This was it. By the end of the night she would completely be Lady Beckett.

"Lady Beckett, you look beautiful," a maid said, noticing Veronica's panic.

Veronica didn't answer, but simply continued to stare at herself in the mirror. Finally, she was led to Beckett's room by Charles and the whole walk there she felt as if she was going to faint.

The butler stopped in front of Beckett's doors and turned to Veronica. He bowed slightly and left Veronica on her own.

Veronica wasn't sure if Beckett was still at the party or if he was currently in his room waiting for her. Veronica lifted her hand and knocked on the door. When she heard no answer, she opened the heavy doors and entered the room.

The room was quite spectacular. There were a few candles lit and the shadows made everything seem so dramatic. She saw a fireplace made from marble and felt herself want to run her hands down the smooth stone. Everything in the room that was wood was hand carved and elaborately designed. And the view-

She walked over to the window and nearly gasped. He was right. The view was to die for. She could see everything and _more_

"I told you the view was amazing," she recognized the voice as Cutler's. She turned around and nodded, adrenaline now flowing through her veins.

His boots made clean cut noises as he walked to Veronica. She forced a smile and looked up at him.

"I never questioned you," she corrected.

"That was wise on your part," he said as he took Veronica's hands. She wasn't really sure what he meant, but dismissed it anyway.

Veronica felt her heart flutter as Cutler leaned in and kissed her. When they ended it, she looked up into his eyes. He lifted her hand to his cheek.

"Now, _Lady Beckett_," he whispered. "Tell your husband want you want."

Veronica searched her mind for an answer. She wasn't quite sure what she wanted actually. She wanted to be married, but at the same time didn't. It would be shameful if she didn't act as a wife. This was what she had been waiting for her whole life. She had learned how to act and how to think. And right now, it was the time to put it to use.

"I want to be yours," she whispered to him. As she felt herself being led to his bed, she bid farewell to what she once knew.

_Saying goodbye is never an easy thing._


	10. Chapter 10

**Saying Goodbye**

Author's note: I can't believe we're already at Chapter Ten. It certaintly doesn't feel that long to me. But, sorry if chapters are taking longer and longer to get up. I'm a 15 year-old girl on summer break; what can you do? But thanks for all the reviews! My apologies to some of you who weren't so please (some disgusted) with the Veronica/Beckett romance in the last chapter. I guess I should have warned you.

Now onto chapter ten.

_

* * *

_

**Chapter Ten**

_Lady Beckett._

She swirled her tea with a tiny spoon, but kept her attention elsewhere. The garden was moist due to a hungry storm that swept through Port Royale the night before. Not wanting to make a fool of herself, she acted as though it didn't bother her. But she couldn't hide anything from him.

She remembered jumping as thunder cracked through the silence. Hand racing to her heart, she knocked over a candle and then fumbled to stand it upright.

"Frightened?" Beckett asked, looking up from the fireplace.

"Just a little anxious," she half admitted.

"Usually, it sounds worse than it really is."

Lady Beckett. 

Was she truly Lady Beckett? She really didn't know if she was living up to the part. Her marriage was already a week old and she had spent every night in her husband's room, his bed, and yet she felt nothing close to a wife.

She recalled waking up after her marriage night, expecting to see Cutler next to her. Instead, he was nowhere to be found and she felt slight relief. How would she act around him? No doubt it would be most awkward. She still felt embarrassed around him during the more intimate of moments and he often liked to mock her. That only flustered her more.

Last night she found out that she was going out to sea in a week. That certainly was a sore subject.

She was laying in bed, reading a boring book that Beckett had recommended to her, but her mind elsewhere, not really caring about law and punishment. Beckett then entered the room and she snapped the book shut in surprise.

"News," he simply said, walking behind the changing screen.

"Good or bad?" she asked, laying the book on the nightstand next to her.

"Depends your perspective I suppose," he replied, stepping from the screen and making his way to the bed. He wasn't wearing his wig, which she had gotten used to. On their wedding night, he had taken it off and at first it was like he was a total different person.

He actually looked like a _person_. He had short dark hair that was unruly and scruffy to the touch. It was ironic almost and she felt herself drawn to it.

"The news?" she asked, getting impatient.

He grinned at her anxiousness. "We'll be departing for sea in a week."

"A week?" she asked, feeling déjà vu.

"I don't see the need in repeating myself," he bluntly said, climbing into the bed.

She huffed and fell back, her head landing roughly on her pillow. She grumbled and turned to the side, hugging her covers tightly.

"If I argued would I get anywhere?" she mumbled into her covers.

"Are you talking to blanket or me?" he asked, annoyance clearly in his voice. "And I believe you should know the answer to that ludicrous question."

And now she sat in the garden, swirling her tea non-stop.

"Lady Beckett, more tea?" a servant asked. She turned to look.

"No," she said, then turned back to her tea. "I've had enough."

* * *

"Lady Beckett," the girl said, sounding rather scared.

She turned around in her chair, this becoming a usual occurrence lately. She liked to retreat back to her old room- which was still kept as her room. It was almost comforting. Keeping her act, she rolled her eyes and turned her attention from the girl.

"Lady Beckett," the girl repeated.

"Goodness Julia," she replied, huffing in annoyance. "I'd rather you call me Veronica."

"Veronica?" she asked, confused.

"I don't see the need in repeating myself," she said, nearly gasping at her choice of words.

_Goodness, I'm turning into him._

"Does that mean we aren't on bad terms anymore, _Veronica_," Julia asked, folding her hands neatly in front of her. She shifted uncomfortably.

"Bad?" Veronica asked. "I would say we were on the worst. Bad is insulting me, or maybe even infuriating me, but betrayal? I believe that's beyond _bad_."

"Please, Veronica," Julia repeated. "You must understand, I did what I had to do. Believe me when I say, informing Lord Beckett was not an easy thing! I can barely sleep at night, this bothers me so."

"So you're only apologizing because you want the guilt to disappear?" Veronica asked, manipulating Julia's words. "You want a free conscience?"

"Lady Beckett, no-"

"I told you to call me Veronica!" she snapped. Seeing Julia's surprised and sad face, Veronica calmed down and took a deep breath. "I apologize for my outburst. A lot has been going on lately. I know I shouldn't put all this one you."

"No," Julia responded. "I shouldn't have told on you. Don't apologize."

"I can only hope we can get to where we were before," Veronica answered truthfully. "But, honestly, it might take a while."

"So you forgive me?" Julia asked, a hopeful look adorning her face.

"Honestly, I don't know how I'll make it through life without a friend," Veronica mumbled, turning away.

"A friend!" Julia replied. She nearly jumped with joy.

"Please, Julia!" Veronica scolded, looking back at the maid. "I've already received a terrible headache, I don't need to make it worse. I'm just glad we've cleared the dust before I left."

"Left?"

"Yes," Veronica sighed. "I have to go out sea- with Lord Beckett."

Julia gasped and walked to the bench at the foot of the bed. Making herself comfortable, she looked up at Veronica waiting for a more.

"In a week," she continued. "Well, a week minus one day."

"Must be frightening!" Julia said. "Being on a rocking boat, all day and all night. What if you shall run into pirates!"

"I've been on a ship before," Veronica reminded. "I'm only worried about the motion sickness. I doubt pirates will attack. We're going to be on a ship, waving the East India Trading Company flag. They'll know that we'll have soldiers and whatnot."

"You never know," Julia replied. "I'm sure there's some pirate out there crazy enough."

"Then hopefully we won't run into them," Veronica concluded. "But maybe it would be exciting to have a little fighting action going on. I nearly died of boredom on my last trip and I doubt this one will be much different."

"Don't wish for something you don't really want," Julia said. "It might just come true."

"On the contrary," Veronica replied, "I've wished for things and those never came true. I don't believe in wishing anymore."

"What about when you see a wishing star?" Julia asked, finding a loophole in Veronica's philosophy.

"A wishing star?"

"Yes," Julia confirmed. "You know; star light, star bright, first star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight?"

Veronica looked at Julia with a raised brow. "I'm not a child."

"Such a waste of a star. A person can never be too old," Julia replied, then cleared her throat. "But I must leave. I only had time to stop by."

Veronica looked to the window and nodded as a response to Julia. And before leaving Julia turned back to Veronica.

"I'm glad we're friends, Lady Beckett."

* * *

That evening Veronica and her brother shared tea in the parlor. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders and her light blue evening dress flowed freely to the ground.

"Going out to sea," her brother drawled out, setting down his teacup.

"Yes, Jakub," Veronica sighed back. "I don't need any reminders."

"So I take it that you're not looking forward to the trip?" Jakub asked sarcastically, resting his hands on his knees.

"Not the slightest," Veronica replied truthfully. She took a small sip of her tea. "I hate ships."

"Hate is such a strong word," Jakub reminded.

"Well this I feel strongly about," she answered back, setting her teacup down and folding her hands neatly on her lap. "I can't possible imagine having to be on _another_ ship. Once was enough. They are dreadful things."

"I bet Lord Beckett will keep you comfortable and situated," Jakub stated and looked away, almost bored with the subject.

"I don't understand why I am even going," she complained. "It isn't right; a woman on board for no reason."

"I suppose the reason would have to do with offspring," Jakub bluntly said as Veronica blushed.

"Offspring?" she asked. "Why couldn't he just wait until he returned?"

"Does Lord Beckett seem like a patient man?" Jakub asked, standing up.

"No," Veronica replied in a low voice, answering her own question. She looked up at Jakub. "Where are you going?"

"It's getting late," he stated, nodding his head toward the window. Veronica looked to it and noticed it was fairly dark out.

"It was nice seeing you, Jakub," Veronica said truthfully. "Stop by some time, will you?"

"I'll try," he sighed, exiting the parlor and grumbling a good bye.

Veronica turned her attention back to the window and looked up at the sky. She searched for the brightest star and stared at it intently.

_Never hurts to try._

Veronica looked around and cleared her throat, making sure no one was around. Under her breath, she said, "Star light, first star tonight- or something along those lines. I wish I may, that you might grant my wish…tonight!"

_Close enough._

"Please don't make me stay on that god forsaken ship," Veronica whispered to the star then smiled, content with her wish. She turned around when she heard someone walk into the room.

She smiled for Cutler and stood up.

"I think it's time to retire, Lady Beckett," he said, a smug smile playing on his face.

_Lady Beckett._


	11. Chapter 11

**Saying Goodbye**

**Chapter Eleven**

_Someday we'll know if love can move a mountain._

_Someday we'll know why the sky is blue._

_Someday we'll know why I wasn't meant for you._

* * *

She walked carefully, the wood below her feet creaking with each step. She looked down at the water that would be awaiting her had she fallen. Sighing, she quickened her pace and continued to follow Lord Beckett. 

"The _Endeavor," _he said, stopping and standing tall, admiring his ship.

She lightly bumped into his back, not expecting the sudden halt. Gaining her composure, she lifted her head to the look at the ship.

"It's big," she observed, shrugging her shoulders. She didn't know what else to say. It was, after all, just a ship. She looked at Cutler and noticed he hadn't heard her. He was too busy staring at his ship. She huffed and crossed her arms. Looking at the ship again, she couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit of jealousy flow through her. "It's not that great."

"Keep your idiotic comments to your own person," he commanded, then tilted his head to look at her. "I feel as though I'm babysitting a two-year-old."

"Sorry I do not have a fascination with ships," she replied, uncrossing her arms. "The truth of the matter is I'm not looking to this _trip_ at all."

"What did I say about the comments?" he asked, looking back to the ship, uninterested.

"Keep them to myself," she grumbled, only for her to hear. Suddenly feeling like a scolded child, she turned to leave. She was almost disappointed when he didn't ask her where she was going or telling her to stop.

She huffed to herself and started to walk down the dock to land. Clutching her dress in her fist, she mumbled nonsense to herself. She was so lost in her rant that she didn't notice a commodore walk towards her. She bumped into his chest and ricocheted back.

She grabbed the commodore's arms, but it was too late. Her feet slipped from the dock, but she held a strong grip on the commodore's arms. Surprised, James didn't have enough time to evaluate the situation. He felt himself being pulled down.

She hit the water with a loud slap. Her arms flailed all around her and she panicked. She didn't no how to swim. She shut her eyes harder, afraid. Getting ready to say her prayers, she feared she'd never see the sky again. Suddenly, she felt an arm wrap around her. She clutched onto the person like a leech and let out a whimper. Eventually, she felt her head above the water. Her eyes shot open and she took a breath of air.

"Cold," she shivered and looked to the person who saved her.

James looked at her with utter concern. She noticed his actual hair, the wig probably discarded somewhere in the water. Strands of brown hair were plastered to his face and she noticed his five o'clock shadow. He definitely looked tired.

"James," she whispered, finally finding something to say.

"Are you all right?" he asked with heavy breaths.

She looked at his face, as if studying it. Taking a breath, she leaned in and planted a kiss on his lips. She pulled away after a couple of seconds and looked away ashamed.

_What did I just do?_

She looked back to face what she just did. "Commodore," she whispered, "I-"

They both looked back at the dock when they heard yelling. She felt herself being carried by the commodore to the dock. She scanned the people on the pier. Most were just soldiers and sadly, she didn't see her husband.

_Funny._

The commodore let her climb up the ladder first. It took all her strength to carry her dress, now completely soaked, up with her. She steadied her feet on the wood and wiped her face from the water.

She looked at Lord Beckett almost frightened as he arrived at the scene. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked away embarrassed.

"What happened?" he asked, looking at the commodore who was climbing up the ladder.

"It seems Lady _Beckett_ lost her footing and fell," he informed then added, "dragging me down with her."

"How unfortunate," Beckett replied. He turned to look at Veronica. "Lady Beckett, back to the house. Commodore, you will accompany her on the walk."

"The walk?" she asked, surprised. "Couldn't we get a carriage? It's positively freezing."

"No, you will walk," he repeated, then turned away. Veronica tapped her fingers irritably as she watched her husband walk away.

She clutched her dress in her hands and wrung it out, water dripping down her legs. "You don't have to go with me," she whispered to the James, not looking at him however.

"It wouldn't be right to let a lady walk around alone," he answered back, dropping his hands to his sides. The people that once surrounded them scattered about.

"Lady," she scoffed to herself. She moved wet pieces of hair away from her face and turned to leave. The commodore followed her.

Veronica took a step on land and stopped to turn around. She sighed and brought her hand to her forehead.

"I apologize," she said, looking up at him. "I've just been an emotional wreck lately."

"That's nothing to apologize for," he responded. "I suppose we all go through those phases. But, we should get going. We wouldn't want you to catch a cold."

"No, we wouldn't," she answered, rolling her eyes.

They walked back to the Beckett estate in an awkward silence, almost as if the kiss had never happened. People turned to look at the drenched couple and some even laughed. They reached the house eventually and they both stopped in front of the door.

Veronica turned to look at the commodore. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome," he replied, bringing his hands to rest on the small of his back.

Veronica bit her lower lip into the ground. "Would you like to come in for some warm tea, maybe a change of clothes? There's probably something laying around here."

James looked away, almost worried. Veronica shook her head.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"I would actually," he said cutting her off. "If it wouldn't be a burden, that is."

"Of course not," she replied, pushing the heavy doors open. A butler jumped in surprised when they entered.

"All you had to do was ring, Lady Beckett," the butler informed. "I would have gladly opened the door for you."

"It's not a problem," she replied.

"You're soaked," he noticed then looked to the commodore. "The commodore too."

"Yes," she responded. "Actually Charles, we came for a change of clothes. There was a slight accident down at the docks."

"Of course," he replied. "Right this way commodore."

Veronica led herself to her room and opened the door. The silence was almost threatening. She hurried to her closet and fished out a casual dress. After dressing, she returned to downstairs where the commodore was already waiting.

"I thought it would be rude not to say goodbye," he said.

"How about that tea?" she asked, reaching the bottom step. "Unless you have some work to attend to."

James seemed to think but then smiled. "Tea would be lovely."

"Right," Veronica replied, leading James to the parlor. She turned to Charles on the way. "Some tea, Charles?"

"Right away," he replied, leaving the room.

Veronica took a seat on the floral couch, James taking a seat next to her. Veronica clapped her hands together and looked to the commodore, smiling.

"So," she started. "Are you going to be traveling on the _Endeavor _for business soon?"

"Actually, yes," he replied. "May I ask how you knew?"

"I'm actually going too," she answered.

"You are?" he asked, a confused look on his face.

"Yes, I know. It's a surprise," she responded.

"Nice surprise," he added. "It wouldn't hurt to have someone nice on board. With all the men and work, it will be nice to see something a little…softer."

"Softer?" Veronica laughed, blushing.

"You know what I mean," he responded, a smile on his face. Veronica looked to James and smiled charmingly.

James was confused. What was he doing- flirting with Beckett's wife? His hands clenched his knees. It was wrong; he knew it. But he couldn't help but get carried away. He hadn't felt this way since-

"James," Veronica said, bringing him back from his thoughts. "Are you feeling alright?"

Suddenly, James brought his hand to Veronica's cheek and leaned in. She felt herself get light headed when James' lips crashed against her own. Feeling confident, she took the kiss further. She reached her hands up to the back of his head as he deepened the kiss.

"James," she whispered, when he broke the kiss.

They both leaned again for another kiss. She fell back on the couch, James on top. His hand rested on her hip.

"Please James," she said. "Save me."

She didn't know what she meant by that. She started to think about it as they continued to kiss. Perhaps her life wasn't all she thought it to be. Sure she had a wealthy, powerful husband with a nice home. Someday she would have kids with him and her life would be everything she dreamed it would be, but then again, maybe not.

"I'll do anything," he surprisingly replied.

Veronica unbuttoned his jacket, forgetting they were in the parlor and anyone could walk in at anytime.

"Elizabeth," he moaned into her ear.

Veronica stopped everything and leaned her head back deeper into the couch. "W-what?"

"I-" James started but then stopped. Veronica looked around, trying to find an answer. "I'm sorry."

James got up and fixed his clothing. Veronica sat up, her hair disheveled and a look of pure bewilderment on her face.

_What just happened?_

"James," she whispered quietly.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, then looked back at her. "I can't do this."

"Don't make it sound like I'm making you do anything," she argued. "Don't make me sound like the bad guy. I'm just- I just thought that-"

"I apologize," he said, sighing. "We're both at fault."

"I just wasn't ready for this marriage," she admitted angrily. "I'm still not and I guess I was just looking for love. But I guess I was just being a child- _again_."

"It looks like we were both trying to fill an empty void," he replied. "And if the circumstances had been different-"

"Just don't," Veronica said while shaking her head, her voice cracking. "Don't say anything more."

"Lady Beckett," James said, bowing his head slightly.

Veronica looked to the commodore and smiled understandingly. She stood and curtsied. "Commodore Norrington."

James left with heavy steps and Veronica plopped back on the couch. She brought her hand to her burning forhead as a tear escaped her eye.

* * *

"Ready?" Veronica whispered to Julia as they walked down the crowded streets. 

"As ready as I'll ever be," Julia replied. She snuck a glance back at the man who was following them ever so slyly. "Sure is a scary looking man."

"Tell me about it," Veronica replied. "Well go."

Julia sighed before leaving Veronica. Julia walked back uncomfortable, dreading what she had to do. She stopped in front of Mercer and smiled.

"Mr. Mercer," she said. He looked at her quizzically. "I have a question actually. Perhaps we can go somewhere just a tad bit more private?"

Mr. Mercer nodded suspiciously and the two moved to the side, away from the crowds.

"Lady Beckett is actually having a little feminine crisis," she explained, using her hands for emphasis. "The poor dear is just so embarrassed she had me come over to talk to you…"

Veronica tried to look embarrassed. She smirked when Mr. Mercer ducked into a shop. Julia gave her a thumbs up. Veronica sped walked away from sight, heading for a certain destination.

She stopped in front of a street and nodded to herself.

_It's now or never._

Veronica walked down the street, her heart racing. She told herself to calm down. It couldn't be that bad. She found herself completely dumbfounded as she looked around. There was no one in sight, save a few people walking around aimlessly.

She stopped a lone woman walking down the dirt road.

"Excuse me," Veronica said. The old woman turned to her and looked her up and down. Telling from her dress, she could tell she was well privileged. "Where is everyone?"

The woman gave a cackle. "Never been around here before, eh? Try coming back at night."

"I don't have that much time," Veronica sighed and looked around once more. "Thank you for your help."

The old woman waved her hand and walked off, leaving Veronica alone. She gathered her hands into fists in determination and set off to find even the least bit of trouble. She turned into a dark alley and pinched her nose when she noticed a couple pigs lying around.

"Disgusting," she whispered to herself, swatting flies away with her free hand. She then heard the sound of a door and lifted her head to look around. No one.

_Now I'm hearing things._

She dragged herself over to a barrel and sat on top of it, landing with a big thump. She crossed her hands irritably.

"Just great," she replied. She roughly pushed strands of hair out of her face. "Just splendid. My one little chance of the slightest adventure before being stuck out on a ship _with Beckett_ and it doesn't happen because of the bloody daylight."

She looked up to the sun and scoffed.

"I don't know why it would matter so much," she continued to grumble. "People can be vulgar or suchlike anytime they want- night or day. It shouldn't matter!"

She stood up and dusted off her skirt.

"Might as well head back," she sighed. Wrapping her hands around her form, she looked around and nodded at the pigs.

But before she could even take one step to leave, she felt a hand cover her mouth. She gave a loud yelp as she was pulled back.

"'Ello, luv."


	12. Chapter 12

**Saying Goodbye**

Author's note: This chapter took so long! I swear I've made so many then scrapped them because I wasn't happy with it. Actually, I'm still not 100 happy with this chapter. I'm also scared I've murdered Jack Sparrow's character. I was so nervous writing him. But thanks for all who reviewed! It really makes me feel better about my story.

Oh and one more thing: Jack Sparrow definately will **not **fall in love with Veronica. His only love is the sea and I intend to keep it that way.

Well, on with the story.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

Her mouth hung loosely as she steadied her feet on the ship. Was this all actually happening? Lying in her bed this morning, she would have never thought that on this day she would be kidnapped by pirates. It seemed all too surreal. She slightly was shoved forward when someone walked past her.

She looked to the rogue pirates with big eyes, but not saying anything. She hadn't gathered that much courage just yet. He looked back at her uncomfortable then walked away, throwing his hands in the air.

Veronica was very confused at this point. She gathered a deep breath and started to follow the said pirate.

"Excuse me, sir," she said after catching up with him. He looked quickly over his shoulders, but then turned his head back, not saying anything. "Pirate."

He whipped around suddenly, the beads hanging from his hair clanking. "It's _Captain _Jack Sparrow actually, lass."

"All right, _Captain_," she said slowly. He nodded his head, ready for her question. "Is there a reason for my presence here?"

"O' course," he replied almost as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. He turned around and continued to walk to the steering wheel.

"Well why am I just sort of sitting here?" she further inquired. "Don't I get sent to a brig or something of that sort?"

Sparrow lifted his finger and pointed at Veronica. She gathered her hands to her body and shrunk back, now remembering her fear of pirates. "Would you like to go to the brig?"

"No," she replied softly.

"Then don' complain," he answered simply. "Mister Gibbs."

A man stopped from his duties to turn and look at Captain Jack.

"Aye sir?" he asked, sneaking a look at Veronica.

"Please take Lady _Beckett _to my cabin," he said as he leaned toward him. "And make sure she stays there, savvy?"

"Aye, Captain," Gibbs replied, nodding his head.

"Lady Beckett?" Veronica asked, jumping at the opportunity. "I believe you are mistaken, sir. I am no Lady Beckett. It seems you've got the wrong person!"

"And it seems that lying is not your forte," he responded, turning his attention elsewhere. "Now if you'll excuse me, luv, Captain Jack has some business to atten' to."

Veronica mentally huffed as she crossed her arms. When the man that she know knew as Gibbs grabbed her arm, she quickly wrenched it away. "I can walk fine, sir," she hissed, sending a glare.

She followed Gibbs down the creaky stairs and to the double doors that lead to the Captain's quarters. Holding her head high, she ignored all the stares and comments that she received from the crew.

She sighed in defeat when she heard the lock click.

* * *

He moved his hands over the wheel, staring ahead. A slight smirk played on his face. Yes everything was going smoothly. They had left Port Royale with Lady Beckett and she was definitely a true lady- thankfully.

He didn't need another Elizabeth. Barking out orders, running around, and acting like the big shot. Yes, he needed someone who would cooperate and lucky, he had got that. Damn he was good. If he would have known getting the heart would have been as easy as a kidnap and a ransom, he would of thought of this a long time ago. He noticed he was chuckling and immediately stopped himself. He couldn't get in too over his head. The trade hadn't even happened.

He suddenly left the wheel, motioning for Gibbs to come and take his place. He walked, more like strode, down the stairs proudly, even humming a little tune.

Opening the doors to his cabin, he noticed the girl sitting at his desk, hands folded neatly in her lap.

He smiled charmingly. "Sorry to keep you waiting, darlin'," he said, walking up the desk.

She stood from his chair in an alarming rate and moved away from it.

"I-I," she began to stutter. She clutched her forehead in aggravation, almost as if trying to remember something. She promised herself she wouldn't forget. She practiced what so say and this time, she wasn't going to screw it up. "Yes, I have one thing to say Captain Sparrow so I should hope you would be kind enough to hear me out. I want to return home and that is my only request. I assure you that if we turn around immediately, I will not tell my husband who you are."

She was surprised when he started to laugh.

"Is there something you find humorous, Captain?" she asked, now feeling incredibly dumb.

"Ye weren't actually serious, were you?" he asked, shaking his head. "There'd be no sense in me kidnappin' you, just to bring you back."

"If there's some kind of ransom that you want, I doubt you'll get it," she informed. "You would have been better of kidnapping Mercer; Lord Beckett doesn't care for me."

"Is tha' so?" he asked, completely uninterested. He took a seat in his chair and hoisted his legs up. His feet landed on the desk with a loud thump.

_Women- always thinking they're not wanted._

"Yes," she said, laying her hand on the desk. "What do you want anyway? You're a pirate. Couldn't you get money some other way?"

"It's not money I'm after, luv," he said, tipping his hat for it to cover his eyes. He brought his hands back around his head.

"Not for money?" she asked. "Then_ what_?"

"A heart," he replied simply.

"A heart?" she repeated, wondering if she heard right. She fumbled with the corner of a map sitting on his desk. Scoffing she added, "I don't think Lord Beckett is _that way_, if you know what I mean."

"Not _his_ heart," he snapped back, his feet suddenly moving off his desk and to the floor. "You mean you don't know about it?"

"About what?" she asked, letting her hands drop to her side. "Your not telling me what _it _is!"

Sparrow suddenly leaned forward, grabbing a bottle from his desk. He lifted it and took a large swig. "And, for your own good, it'd be better if you didn't know. Savvy?"

"No, no _savvy_," she replied, throwing her arms in the air.

"No worries, however," he said pushing his hat back in normal position and standing up from his seat. "Your dear hubby will be here soon to whisk you away. And while we're waiting," he said, holding the bottle out to her, "we might as well enjoy ourselves."

She shook her head in disgust and pushed his hand away. "I'm not one for alcohol."

"Not one for alcohol?" he repeated, smiling amusingly. "Luv, there is no such thing."

"Obviously one like you wouldn't think so," she explained, motioning to his dress and manner.

"One like me?" he asked, nearing her. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Please inform me- what is the definition of a person like me."

She backed up uncomfortably and looked to the side nervously. "Well, you know."

"No," he said, filling up the space that she created. "No I don't know."

"Yes you do!" she insisted, backing up more. "The stealing, no manners, no sense of hygiene, the drunkenness, the whole package!"

"The whole package, you say," he replied, taking a step forward. Veronica found her back hit the wall. He brought a finger to chin and traced her jaw line. "I could show ye the whole package- if you'd like."

He saw sheer panic run across her face before she squeezed herself out of the uncomfortable position. She sped walked across the room, but stopped in front of the doors.

"My crew know not to hurt you," he informed, a smile still on his face.

She looked back.

"My offer still stands," he said, his hands out.

She quickly fumbled for the door handle and left the room as quick as light. She brought her hand to her face and used it almost as a curtain to shield her away from the crew's looks. Taking a seat on a crate, she turned to the side to stare at the water.

It was peculiar, but Veronica was sure this was the first time she really wanted to see Cutler.

* * *

He sat in his chair, a stern look on his face. This was the icing on the cake. The girl had been troublesome enough, but this was just too annoying. She'd gone and been difficult again, but this time more severe. This would definitely postpone his original plans.

It annoyed him even more that people expected him to act upon this so quickly. It was not his paramount worry; it was actually far from it. Of course, he would have to at least act concerned. As much as he hated to admit it, he did care what other people thought.

_Appearance is important._

Hearing footsteps, he looked up. The commodore stood before him with a rigid posture.

"We've searched the entire port," he informed, hands retreating to his back. "Last she was seen was in the southern part of town. More importantly, a few of my men spotted a ship with black sails. No doubt the-"

"Black Pearl," Beckett finished, looking away clearly annoyed.

"The Black Pearl," the commodore confirmed with a nod of the head. "It seems Sparrow strikes again."

"And we shall see to it that it's the last time he does," Beckett replied.

The commodore nodded. "I also suggest we act fast. Who knows what Sparrow could do."

"You seem very concerned," Beckett replied, looking back at James. "She is _my _wife and of course I would like to see her back home and safe. Ready a ship. We leave as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir," James responded, biting his tongue. He turned sharply and left the room, a couple of men following him.

Beckett sighed to himself. After this was out of the way, he would make sure his _beloved_ wife stayed out the way. Whatever it took.

_I'll lock her in a closet if I have to._


	13. Chapter 13

**Saying Goodbye**

Author's note: Here's chapter thirteen. Thanks all who reviewed. It really made me write this chapter earlier than I thought I was going to. But here it is, it's a little on the short side. And there may be some mistakes. I try and reread it as much as I can, but believe when I say it gets really boring. My apologies for typos or whatever.

Keep reading and reviewing!

* * *

She hummed a gentle tune to herself, one her mother had taught her. Unfortunately, she had forgotten some of it, having to improv at some points. It was a humid morning; fog clouded vision and maybe even heads. She heard footsteps behind her and immediately recognized them as the captain's. The jingling of his beads didn't hide his identity any better. 

"Aren't we going rather slow?" she asked, tilting her head to the side to look at him.

"We want your husband to catch up, don't we?" he replied, appearing next to her and drumming his hands on the boat.

"I suppose we do," she answered, looking back out to the fog. "I can't wait to get off this dreaded ship. It makes me sick."

"Sick with joy, I hope," Jack said.

"Sick with- with _sickness!_" she nearly yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. "I hate the sea! With all its rocking and splashing."

"Don'!" he quickly said, putting his hands up to motion her to stop. "Don' anger her, luv."

"The sea?" she asked, chuckling and looking to him with a amused face. "The sea doesn't have feeling or emotions! It's bloody water."

"Blasphemy!" he shouted. "You'll soon see the sea has no mercy."

"Well neither do you obviously," she snorted. "Kidnapping a lady."

"A lady?" he asked, looking Veronica up and down. Her hair was down and flowing about in the wind and her dress had certainly gathered dirt and muck. "I see no lady."

"Oh really," she replied, swatting her hair away from her face. "What do you see then?"

"A girl," he answered, a smile tugging on his lips.

"A girl," she repeated to herself, laughing. She looked away and leaned on the side of the boat, letting go a deep sigh. "Well I see a pirate."

"That reminds me," he said, giving a pondering face. "How's the commodore?"

"You mean Commodore Norrington?" she asked then continued when he nodded. "I don't know. He thinks about a woman called Elizabeth."

"Does he now?" Jack asked. "Interesting. And how do you know?"

"Well we were having a- a friendly moment," she answered. She stuttered, rendering the truth a tad. "Really only talking, but I felt like we connected. Then he goes and calls me Elizabeth and ruins the entire moment!"

"Seems more than a _friendly_ moment."

"Well it wasn't," she answered, then changed the subject quickly. "Tell me Sparrow, do you plan on ever having children?"

"Children?" he asked, shifting uncomfortable. "Well I don't see why not. I could find a nice woman in Tortuga, leave her with the devils until they're old enough, then take the little rascals to learn the ropes."

"You'd leave the woman all alone to take care of your children?" she asked.

"Well they're hers too," he answered, justifying his answer.

"You're horrible," she sighed.

"Oh really," he responded, moving closer. "And just what do ye think your beloved hubby plans to do, darlin'?"

"He wouldn't!" she insisted, turning to face him. "He's- he's not–"

"Not a what?" he asked, trying to drag it out of her.

"He's not a monster!" she finished, glaring at Sparrow. He gave a small smile and she gasped. "Oh goodness, I'm going to be stuck alone with who knows how many children running around me!"

Jack shrugged and leaned on the side of the boat on one elbow.

"The least he could do is let me stay with him," she sighed, her arms falling in defeat. "Or give me two to five nanny's."

She took a heavy seat on a crate, resting her head in hand. She then looked to Jack.

"How are you able to be happy with your life?" she asked. "You're a pirate and yet your as happy as can be."

"The trick is not to worry," Captain Jack answered, pointing a finger at her. "Think about yourself."

"Be selfish you mean," she replied, looking as if she had given up hope.

"Such an accusing word," he tsked. "I like to call it: looking out for my own person."

"And I like to call it what it really is: selfishness," she responded.

"Funny how two people can see something so different," he laughed. "Either way, who's happy in the end?"

"Yes, but that is a high price to pay," she argued. "Being selfish, bad mannered, a _pirate._ I'd rather take unhappiness."

"The last time I checked, luv, happiness was what you were trying to find," he reminded.

"Yes, I know!" she said, getting up from her crate. She neared Jack and poked his chest with her finger. "But I will not stand here and listen to morality lessons from a pirate! I can make my own happiness however I want and no one will stop me!"

"Now," he breathed heavily. "Now I see a woman."

"Well, I still see a pirate," she hissed, stomping away. He watched her leave and gave a heavy sigh. Wiping his brow, he went back to work.

_Women._

* * *

The next day went by slowly and Veronica found herself falling asleep at almost every moment she had the chance. The captain's cabin was hot and humid, and she found it most difficult to get comfortable and to fall asleep.

She lied on the ground, trying to escape any heat. She played with a splinter of wood that was breaking away. The door opened and she lifted her head up to see the captain standing there, a bottle of rum in his hand.

"Evenin' luv," he said, moving to her with heavy steps. She sighed and turned away when he sat down next to her.

"Good evening," she replied. "All done with your work?"

"Work," he scoffed.

She sat up and leaned her back against the wall, leaving her legs out.

"Hungry?" he asked. "I saw you got rid of most of your lunch today."

"Very funny. It's not my fault I get sea sick," she sighed and shook her head.

"Come now," he replied. "We don't want you looking like a prisoner. Imagine how angry your husband would be if he thinks we haven't fed you right."

"Well you aren't," she said, looking over at him. "You call that slop food? I call it pig food."

"Once again," he laughed. "Funny how two people can see something totally different."

"It that some kind of psalm or idea that you want me to think about," she finally accused. "Maybe it's some kind of lesson that you want me to learn."

"Just a thought," he said, taking a swig of rum.

"When's he getting here?" she complained, her head leaning back. "I need to be by my husband. I need to get on with my life!"

"Aye, but do you want to?" he asked, narrowing his eyes in a questioning manner.

She decided not to answer, but merely snorted. Crossing her arms, she felt shifted uncomfortably.

"It feels like an oven in here," she complained, wiping her brow.

"I bet we could make it hotter," he joked, flashing her a smile.

"Enough, Sparrow," she warned. "I'm a married woman! I've had enough of your vulgar comments. Why would I leave betray my husband just to be a one nightstand for _Captain Jack Sparrow!_ I have plans and reservations. I can't just forget about them for my own selfish reasons!"

"Captain," they heard someone say. They both turned their heads quickly to the door. "We've spotted a ship. No doubt Beckett."

"Excellent," Jack said as the crewmember left. He took a long swig of his rum, nearly toppling over. He smacked his lips when he was done and stood. Veronica also got up from her seat.

He looked over at her and pushed the bottle to her chest. She grabbed it as a reflex.

"Your plans and reservations," he whispered. "Drown them."

He then left Veronica staring confusingly ahead. She brought the bottle to eye level and studied it carefully, twirling it in her hands.

She then brought it back down when she heard the door close and the lock click. Biting her bottom lip, she remembered his words.

_Drown them._

* * *

Captain Jack Sparrow walked on the deck confidently. He smiled at the ship in the distance and as it grew closer and closer, he felt a feeling of uncertainty but quickly chased those thoughts away. Hell, he was Captain Jack Sparrow. 

He walked towards the soldiers that boarded his ship. Smiling nicely, he shook their hands, enjoying the confused look on their faces.

"Is there something you need, gentlemen?" he asked, teasing them.

"You know what we're here for, Sparrow," the one in the front answered.

"It's _Captain _Sparrow actually, Norrington," he corrected, swaying back and forth. "Tha's alright though. Maybe you'll get it right next time, aye?"

"Lord Beckett is expecting your presence,"James said. Then he turned to a soldier to his right. "Find her and bring her back."

The soldier nodded, before heading off.

"Sparrow, please ask your men to lower their swords," Norrington said, looking back at Jack. "Lady Beckett's safety is of most concern."

"Of course," Jack smiled, then looked at his men behind him. "It's alright, mates. No worry. Captain Jack has this under control."

All the men reluctantly put away their weapons, looking wearily at their Captain.

"Please, follow us," the commodore said, leading Jack away. He walked with confidence, although he couldn't help but feel the tiniest uneasiness. Beckett was certainly not a pleasant man to see.

He looked at the _Endeavor _and readied to board.


	14. Chapter 14

**Saying Goodbye**

Author's note: Wow, I'm sorry that took like a bajillion years. I sort of had writer's block. And I still partly do. I was thinking that I could either have a.) a tragic ending or b.) a happy one. Not completely sure which I'm aiming for. Any ideas?

Well here's chapter fourteen . (already?)

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

The air was salty as would be expected. He could taste it on his lips, his tongue. Nasty actually. He couldn't say that he liked water or the sea for that matter. In fact, he hated it. Stubborn storms, roaring waves, and dare he mention _pirates._ The sea was nothing but a burden.

But ironically, it held what he wanted.

_Power._

And once he had that, he had everything.

"Lord Beckett."

He turned to look at the man who had interrupted his thoughts. With a slight huff he nodded, allowing the soldier to talk.

"Jack Sparrow is here and-"

"_Captain _Jack Sparrow, actually," the pirate said, pushing his way past the soldier.

Beckett dismissed the soldier with a mere nod and fixed his gaze on Sparrow, who had an annoying smile plastered on his face. Beckett tightened his fist, intend on wiping it off his face.

"Sparrow-"

"Cutler," Jack said, throwing his arms out. "Long time no see, aye?"

"So it would seem," Beckett responded, not moving from his seat in his chair. "How is that dumb piece of wood holding up- the _Wicked Wench._"

Jack chuckled and walked closer to Beckett's desk, leaning down on it. "The _Black Pearl_ is more than just piece of wood; and it's doing quite well."

"So I suppose you've gotten over it then?" Beckett snapped back, turning away in fake disinterest.

"Gotten over what, mate?"

"I still remember your face," Beckett mused, a smile on his face. He shifted some papers on his desk and slightly laughed. "Watching your ship sink to the depths below."

He said the words so softly, as if recalling a happy memory. Sparrow's eyes gazed over to the P branded on his arm. Beckett caught the glance.

"Ah," Beckett said, looking back to Sparrow. "I guess it follows you then, doesn't it?"

Sparrow looked away and his eyes landed on a portrait of Beckett and the girl.

"Interesting piece of art you have here," he said, crossing the room and tapping it. "Beauty and the beast, aye?"

Beckett didn't move from his seat but sent just sent glares.

"A wife?" he asked, turning to face Cutler. "I don't remember receiving an invitation to the wedding."

"Don't feign dumb," Beckett interrupted. "You know very well who that is."

"Now that you mention it," he replied, putting his finger on his chin and tilting his head. "She does seem a tad familiar."

"I thought she would," Beckett replied, leaning back in his seat. "What do you want?"

"Now Cutler, I always thought you were smarter than tha'," Jack said, laughing. Then he paused slightly. "The heart."

"I surprisingly thought you were smarter than that," he replied. "Why would I bring it with me?"

Jack paused. Of course a loophole in his plan had to pop up somewhere.

"Well then," Jack said, moving towards the door. "Go on back and get it. We'll still be waiting."

Just before Sparrow could reach the door, it opened. Norrington struggled to steer the girl in the room. Veronica stumbled into the room and scanned it for a moment. When her eyes landed upon her husband she giggled and threw her hands out.

"Husband!" she yelled, eyes wide. "I've been waiting for you!"

She escaped from James's arms and stumbled in front of his desk next to Jack. Smiling, she leaned against him for support.

"You've gotten her drunk!" Cutler accused, surprised.

"Now, I didn't go and shove it down her throat," Jack snapped back, holding a finger up.

"Now now, Cutler dear," Veronica replied, shaking her finger at him. "Don't spoil the fun! I bet Captain's got some more stored on his ship! Would you like me to go get some?"

She turned, not waiting for his answer, but was blocked by a commodore.

"James!" she said, smiling. "Would you like one too?"

"No one will be having any drinks," Cutler hissed, getting up from his seat. "I thought you didn't fancy them either."

"That's what I thought to," Veronica admitted. "But then Captain Sparrow- Captain Sparrow showed me!"

Cutler sent a glare towards Jack while he lifted his fingers.

"I can sense some marital tension in the room," he said, backing up towards the door. "I think it would be best if we left the two with the wedding rings alone to converse, aye?"

"I, however, object!" Veronica said raising her hand in the air. Cutler brought it back down.

"As if that even matters," he grumbled, and then turned to Jack. He opened his mouth and was about to say something when suddenly he felt a weight tug at his shoulder. He turned to catch Veronica in his arms as she passed out.

And she had to admit, that was going to be the best sleep she's ever gotten.

* * *

"Oh, my head," she whined, putting her hand up to her forehead. Hoisting herself up and supporting herself with her elbows, she gazed around the room. She sat up and threw the flimsy sheets off of her and stood up from the cot.

The air was dusty with a smell of mold, but she breathed it in invitingly. Was she in Jack's cabin? It certainly didn't look the same. The last thing she remembered, however, was Jack handing her the bottle of rum in his cabin.

There was no rum in the room however, but she noticed brandy and glasses neatly set on a table. Then she froze. She was on Cutler's ship. She noticed the portrait of them two, his mighty desk, and trinkets.

Worry flooded her head and veins. Why couldn't she remember what happened? Heaven knows what she had said or even done in front of her husband. At the moment, she decided she wasn't ready to face this. She lunged for the cot and buried her face in the think sheets, trying with all her might to fall asleep.

When the door opened slowly, she knew right away it wasn't Cutler. He would have swung it open with pride and anger. Curiosity taking over, she turned her head slightly. Luckily for her, it was only James.

"Lady Beckett," he said, bowing his head slightly.

"James," she breathed out, not ready for formalities. She jumped out of the cot ready to run to him for some comfort. However, when right when she stood up, dizziness took over.

She took a deep breath and steadied herself.

_Bloody alcohol._

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, trying to seem indifferent, but still couldn't help but be concerned.

"At the moment, yes," she answered, her stomach turning madly. She approached him with hopeless eyes. "I suppose I have see him now, don't I?"

James gave nothing but a nod. She reached in for him to gather her in his arms, but it never came. He backed away and cleared his throat. "Lady Beckett."

She sighed and patted her unruly hair down, trying to seem as decent as possible. As James left to inform her husband that she finally awakened, she sat down on the bed trying to plan out her words. At the moment, however, she couldn't tell where this would go at all.

When Cutler entered the room and shut the door, she certainly felt his power radiating from his person. She stood quickly, stumbling over her own feet. She curtsied but couldn't say his name. Silence was easier.

He slowly walked to his desk, the sound of his boots hitting the ground ricocheting off the walls and into her ear, almost taunting her.

She heard the sound of brandy being poured into a glass and looked to him.

"Oh, would you like some?" Cutler said, hardly offering it to her. "Seems like you're a giant admirer."

Biting her bottom lip, she looked away and promised herself not to cry.

"Has something got your tongue?" he asked, drinking his glass of brandy in one gulp. "Maybe Sparrow?"

"No!" Veronica defended, turning to him. A look of sheer astonishment flashed across her face. "What kind of- I'm not a whore!"

"Is that so?" he asked, setting his glass down and approaching her. "Could've fooled me, pirate whore."

"Where is he?" she asked suddenly. "Sparrow; where is he?"

Unexpectedly, Cutler grabbed her arm harshly, keeping a steady hold on her. "If I were you, I'd be scared for my own well-being," he warned.

Not being able to hold it any longer, Veronica finally let the tears fall. Cutler let go of her arm and she rubbed it, trying to sooth the sore. She turned away from him, ashamed, and retreated back to her cot. Landing on it with a big thud, she gathered her head into her arms and sobbed, trying to keep as quiet as possible.

Lord Cutler Beckett couldn't lie. At the moment, the cries were music to his ears. They just screamed victory.

She was surprised to feel Beckett sit next to her and wrap his arm around her body.

"There, there," he said, patting her back and making circles. "As if I would allow my wife to ever be a pirates whore."

Veronica fell into his hold and let him sooth her. Even if they were thinking she was crying over different things, she was crying and the littlest ounce of comfort she would take.

"And just so you know, I let him go," he said, pulling away from her and carrying on with his own business.

"You let him go?"

"I believe that's what I said," he replied, taking a seat at his desk. He answered her next question without her having to ask. "I think I can find a use for him later."

Veronica decided against making a rude remark and just stood to leave. Before reaching the door, however, his voice stopped her.

"And do not make the mistake that this is over," he said, looking her straight in the eye. Veronica ran from the threat as fast as her feet would take her.


	15. Chapter 15

**Saying Goodbye**

It certainly has been a long time. I've been really caught up with school and I looked back at this story today and was determined to write a chapter. This chapter is more relaxed than the others only to allow more insight into the character's thoughts and actions. This story will be updated whenever I have time to write so I hope all my loyal readers will stuck around.

Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

Port Royale felt considerably different than she remembered it. She gazed longingly out the window, her scarf that she was knitting thrown to the side. Behind her, she could hear her husband shuffling papers and scratching words with his quill. She had grown quite tired and was almost willing to spend her time in his study. It was much better than running into people who were begging to hear of her wonderful adventure, which she, of course, had to change.

"Jack Sparrow," she had said to a lady that stopped her while walking down the market. "What can I say? Cruel man. Positively malicious."

"You poor dear," the woman sighed, lightly placing a hand over her chest.

"I try to rid myself of the memory," Lady Beckett explained, shaking her head solemnly. If her husband were here, he would approve of her acting skills. "But I do remember the feeling of catching a glance of my husband's ship over the horizon."

"Oh dear!"

"Hope flowed through my chest and tears stung my eyes. Unfortunately, my happy moment was stripped away from me when Sparrow brutally threw me into the brig," she continued. She choked back a fake sob. "I'm afraid my poor heart cannot stand to say another word."

The lady nodded sympathetically and took Veronica's hands in her own. "I understand. May God bless you."

It was pitiful how she had to run to her husband for some relief. But then she supposes that's how it's supposed to be.

"Lord Beckett," she said, turning around in her seat.

He didn't look up from his papers but let out a grunt, signalizing her to continue.

"What will happen?" she asked, stopping to take a reassuring breath. "What will happen to me?"

That was when he stopped and looked up at her, a small smile tugging on his lips. "Explain yourself."

She stood from her seat, playing with the fabric of her dress nervously. Keeping her eyes down on her hands, she slowly walked towards him.

"Well?"

"I mean to say, will you send me away?" she asked, looking up at his eyes. She cursed at herself for being so dependent, but at this point it was inevitable. "To England?"

"Would you like to go back to England?"

This question certainly surprised her. She opened her mouth but found nothing to say. "I don't think it's my place to decide."

"How very right you are," he said, now a full grin on his face. He looked back at his papers.

"Will you tell me?" she asked.

"No."

"I thought as much," she sighed, returning to her seat on the chase. The fire crackled in front of her. "How many children will we have?"

She could tell this question bothered him without even having to turn around and look at his face. His silence was enough.

"How about their names?"

"Why the sudden interest?" was all he said. She listened as he continued to write.

"Well this is my future," she explained. "And I don't want to be left in the dark about my own destiny."

He said nothing once again and Veronica shifted to take a look at him. She bit her lip, deciding if she was feeling courageous or not. Her hands played with her scarf.

"I prefer the name William."

"The first will be Cutler," he plainly said.

"Then if we have a girl, her name will be Veronica," she said, poking around for an argument.

"That's ridiculous," she heard him whisper under his breath.

"Why is that _so _ridiculous?"

He looked away from his paper and set his quill done. "It simply isn't done."

"Well, we'll be the first to do it," she replied. She looked back to her scarf and began tugging at some pieces of yarn. "Which Cutler are you?"

"What?"

"I mean, like Cutler Beckett II or maybe the III," she explained, looking back at him. "Obviously if you want to name your son Cutler, there most be some tradition."

"Lord Cutler Beckett the III," he whispered, almost sounding nervous.

"So my son will be Cutler Beckett the IV," she concluded, setting down her half finished scarf on her lap. "I don't really like the number four."

"Well, that's certainly to bad."

"Well since the girl can't be Veronica, can she at least be a Victoria?"

"Lady Beckett, don't you have knitting to attend to?" Cutler spat, clearly annoyed as of this point.

"I suppose."

* * *

She sat on her bed taking in the scene before her. There were dozens of dresses cast on her floor carelessly, drawers opened, and doors sliding back and forth gently in the wind. She moved her eyes quickly to the girl on her knees, digging in her closet.

"Can you please inform me on what is going on now?" Veronica asked, stepping towards Julia, being careful not to step on one of her dresses.

"I'm trying to see if you have _anything _suitable," Julia explained, moving further into her closet.

"What's the occasion now?" Veronica asked. "I feel like there's not time to just be."

"It's a great occasion!" Julia exclaimed, coming back up for air. She held a dress out in front of her and expected it with a squinted eye. Scowling, she threw it aside.

"So I see," Veronica laughed. "I don't even have a dress for it."

"Commodore Norrington is being promoted next week!" Julia squealed, smiling.

"Is he?" Lady Beckett said, quietly. She looked away from Julia and the excitement and made her way to her window. She played with the seams of her sleeves.

"Yes," she heard Julia behind her. "To Admiral! Isn't it great?"

"Certainly is."

"It seems you have no dresses either! I'll have to go shopping soon," Julia huffed. "We want you to look best for Lord Beckett."

"Julia," Lady Beckett said, suddenly turning around.

"Yes?" Julia asked, attentive.

"I need some time alone," Veronica explained. "I'm feeling very tired."

"You aren't becoming ill?" she asked, moving forward and extending her hand to Veronica's forehead. Veronica pushed it away.

"Nothing a short nap won't fix."

"Don't you want me to clean up?" Julia asked, looking around at the disaster around her.

"Just leave, please." Veronica ordered, becoming petulant.

The afternoon seemed to come too soon and Veronica found herself in her favorite chair, staring out the window. In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but feel a little jealousy toward James.

Already everything was working out for him and she was stuck- stuck in this marriage, this life, which she knew she could never get out of. She was still fascinated with James though. She couldn't help but let her mind wander to him. She was still aching to touch him and he probably forgot all about her and already was moving on to bigger and better and things.

_Doesn't he sometimes think of me?_

Of course he doesn't. She was after all just a foolish girl in love. And James- James was too good for these kind of childish fantasies. And it was time for her to grow up. Veronica shifted in her chair, looking out at the dock and all the sailors buzzing around.

There was so much around her and she couldn't help but crave for something more. Something that wasn't in this port, this estate.

She caught herself quickly. Of course she could never grow up if she kept thinking such ludicrous things. She had a husband, a duty. But at the same time she also had wishes, wishes that filled her mind.

"Wishes that will never happen," she said to the air.

The sound of knocking barged into her thoughts and she turned her head to the door.

"Lady Beckett. Dinner is ready."

Looking back out at the view of the ocean, she studied it carefully.

"Are you ready?"

She stood from her chair and closed the curtains harshly.

"Yes. I'm ready."


End file.
